The room felt smaller, the air heavier, as the investigators watched my reaction. The person in the photos was not a stranger. Not a nurse I barely knew. Someone who had been by my side throughout my pregnancy, smiled during the ultrasound, and held my hand after the birth.
It was Daniel.
He had a business card and moved with a calm ease: no hesitation, no disorientation. He stopped at the IV stand, looked down the hall, then adjusted something near the tube. The camera didn’t capture the movement perfectly, but the timeline was consistent with Liam’s sudden collapse a few hours later.
As the screen went dark, I realized that my fingernails had left crescent-shaped marks on the chair.
Detective Harris leaned forward. “We reviewed it with the original medical team. We skipped toxicology because the death was attributed to genetic factors. Now that we know there was tampering, we’ve reclassified it as a homicide.”
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