Chapter 3 - Seventeen Minutes.
Seventeen minutes became the number Claire could not stop hearing.
Seventeen minutes since Lily had tried to call her.
Seventeen minutes while Claire sat downstairs smiling through a toast she barely remembered.
Seventeen minutes while Patricia had told her not to worry.
The lead officer picked up Lily's emergency phone with a gloved hand.
"Nobody touch this."
Robert bristled.
"It's a child's phone, not evidence."
The officer looked directly at him.
"Right now, sir, we don't know what it is."
That answer changed the room.
Robert stopped speaking.
Patricia looked suddenly older.
The paramedics transferred Lily carefully onto a stretcher.
Claire followed every movement with terrified concentration.
"Can I go with her?"
"Yes."
Patricia stepped toward the stretcher.
"I should go too."
Claire turned so quickly that even Patricia recoiled.
"No."
The word was quiet.
It carried more force than a scream.
"Claire, I'm her grandmother."
"And I don't know what happened in this house."
Robert's voice sharpened.
"Watch yourself."
One officer stepped between them.
"Sir, that's enough."
The hallway behind them filled with confused relatives from the party.
Aunt Denise covered her mouth.
Claire's brother-in-law stared at the flashing lights outside.
No one seemed willing to ask the obvious question.
Claire suddenly remembered Patricia's expression downstairs when she had asked where Lily was.
Not concern.
Calculation.
The memory landed like ice.
The paramedics rolled Lily toward the stairs.
Claire stayed close beside her.
At the top step, a young officer approached Claire.
"Before you leave, was your daughter alone with anyone tonight?"
Claire looked down the staircase.
Family members stood everywhere.
"I thought she was with the other kids."
"Was she?"
Claire searched her memory.
The children had been in the den after dinner.
Lily had complained that the music was too loud.
Patricia had offered to take her upstairs for quiet time.
Claire had thanked her.
The guilt was immediate and brutal.
"Patricia took her upstairs."
Behind Claire, someone inhaled sharply.
It was Denise.
Patricia's younger sister.
Claire turned.
Denise looked terrified.
"What?"
Denise shook her head.
"Nothing."
Claire stepped toward her.
"Denise, what is it?"
Robert interrupted from the bedroom doorway.
"She said nothing."
The officer looked at Denise.
"Ma'am, did you see something?"
Denise's eyes darted toward Robert.
Then Patricia.
Then the floor.
"I heard an argument upstairs."
Patricia's face changed instantly.
"No, you didn't."
Denise flinched.
Claire's heart hammered.
"Who was arguing?"
Denise swallowed.
"Patricia was upset about the phone."
Robert moved forward.
"That's enough."
Two officers blocked him.
Denise continued, voice trembling.
"I heard Lily say she wanted her mom."
Claire gripped the stair railing.
The house seemed to tilt around her.
"What else?"
Denise began to cry.
"I heard Patricia say, 'You are not calling anyone.'"
Silence swallowed the hallway.
Then Patricia laughed.
It was short, brittle, and completely wrong.
"This is ridiculous."
The lead officer did not laugh.
He turned to his partner.
"Separate them."
Robert's expression went flat.
Patricia finally looked frightened.
Claire followed Lily downstairs toward the ambulance.
As the front doors opened, Denise caught Claire's sleeve.
"There's something else."
Claire looked at her.
May you like
Denise glanced back toward the staircase.
"Robert went upstairs too."
