Chapter 3 - Seventeen Missing Minutes
By nine the next morning, Michael had hired one of Manhattan’s most expensive matrimonial lawyers.
By ten, he had filed his own sworn statement.
Emily read it in Nora’s office.
She could barely believe the words.
Michael alleged that Emily had become “emotionally erratic” since her father’s death two years earlier.
He claimed she screamed at staff.
He claimed she drank excessively.
He claimed she had physically attacked Vanessa after “misinterpreting an ordinary disciplinary dispute.”
And he claimed Sophie was being manipulated.
Emily dropped the document onto Nora’s desk.
“He watched that woman hit our daughter.”
“I know.”
“And now he’s accusing me?”
“He needs a competing narrative.”
“It’s a lie.”
“Parts of it.”
Emily looked up.
Nora’s expression was careful.
“What does that mean?”
“You did shove Vanessa.”
“After she hit Sophie.”
“Yes.”
“I would do it again.”
“That sentence cannot leave this room.”
Emily stood.
“Why?”
“Because custody litigation punishes certainty when it sounds like vengeance.”
“My daughter was assaulted.”
“And a judge will care very much. But Michael is trying to build a second case: that you are impulsive, unstable, and dangerous when angry.”
Emily paced toward the window.
“He won’t get away with that.”
“Then stop helping him.”
The words stung.
Emily turned.
Nora softened slightly.
“You asked me to protect you. I cannot do that if you confuse moral justification with legal strategy.”
Emily sat.
She hated that Nora was right.
At noon, a Westchester County judge issued a temporary order barring Vanessa from contacting Sophie and Emily.
Michael was ordered to stay away from Sophie pending a child-protective review except through counsel.
The order did not remove Michael from the mansion.
That required another hearing.
It also did not prevent him from going to work.
At 12:37, he did exactly that.
Emily’s phone began ringing.
First, the company’s general counsel, Victor Lang.
Then the board chair, Thomas Reed.
Then the chief operating officer.
Emily ignored them until Nora said, “Take Reed.”
Emily answered.
“Thomas.”
His voice was low.
“Emily, I’m sorry about Sophie.”
“Are you?”
“What does that mean?”
“It means Michael forged a proxy over my shares, and you’re calling me twelve hours later sounding like you want to discuss weather.”
A pause.
“I don’t know that anything was forged.”
“I do.”
“Michael says the document is legitimate.”
“Michael also says I attacked Vanessa for no reason.”
Thomas sighed.
“We have a corporate problem.”
“No. Michael has a corporate problem.”
“Three lenders called this morning.”
“Why?”
“Because Michael informed them that you may take a leave of absence.”
Emily’s fingers went cold.
“He did what?”
“He cited reputational concerns and instability in the executive office.”
“I own sixty-one percent of the company.”
“And you’re CEO. But the board still has fiduciary duties.”
“You’re threatening me.”
“I’m warning you. There’s an emergency meeting tomorrow.”
He disconnected.
Emily looked at Nora.
“He’s using Sophie’s assault to remove me.”
Nora’s mouth tightened.
“Then we need to know how long he planned it.”
They drove to the mansion that afternoon accompanied by a sheriff’s deputy and a child-welfare caseworker so Emily could collect clothes.
Michael was gone.
The house felt different.
Not empty.
Contaminated.
Sophie refused to go upstairs.
Emily left her with the caseworker in the kitchen and entered the bedroom alone.
The broken brass lock from the black box was still on the carpet.
A faint crack ran through one pane of the glass wardrobe where Sophie had struck it.
Emily touched the glass.
Then she noticed the security camera above the hallway door.
The mansion had a private security system.
Every corridor was covered.
She called the company.
“Send me everything from yesterday between five and seven.”
Twenty minutes later, the security manager called back.
“There’s a problem.”
“What?”
“The footage from the second-floor hall is missing.”
“How much?”
“Seventeen minutes.”
Emily stopped walking.
“Exactly when?”
“Six-oh-two to six-nineteen.”
Emily remembered the police report.
Her emergency call had been placed at 6:16.
“Who deleted it?”
“I’m checking.”
She hung up.
A floorboard creaked behind her.
Emily spun around.
Rosa Delgado, the housekeeper who had worked for the family for six years, stood in the hallway.
She looked terrified.
“Mrs. Mercer.”
“Rosa?”
Rosa glanced toward the stairs.
“I didn’t know if I should tell the police.”
“Tell them what?”
“I heard Mr. Mercer yesterday.”
Emily’s heartbeat quickened.
“What did you hear?”
Rosa lowered her voice.
“He went into Miss Sophie’s room before you came home.”
“I know.”
“He was angry.”
“With Sophie?”
“No.”
Rosa swallowed.
“With Vanessa.”
Emily stepped closer.
“What did he say?”
Rosa’s eyes filled with tears.
“He said, ‘You were supposed to scare her, not leave marks.’”
Emily felt the room tilt.
Rosa grabbed her wrist.
“And then Vanessa said something worse.”
May you like
“What?”
“She said, ‘If Sophie talks, Emily will never sign.’”
