Chapter 3 - The Police Interrogation and Family Betrayal
By evening, Nashville police detectives had arrived at both the hospital and Vivienne’s estate. Detective Marcus Vance—no relation to Caleb, thankfully—led the investigation alongside Officer Thomas. They took our formal statements, collected the remaining blackberry cobbler from our kitchen counter, and secured the residue from the plate Vivienne had given Ethan in the hallway.
Caleb stayed by Ethan’s bedside while I assisted the detectives with every detail of the afternoon. Fortunately, Dr. Jenkins confirmed that because Ethan had only ingested a small amount before vomiting part of it up, and due to rapid medical intervention, his prognosis was stable, though he would need overnight observation.
Meanwhile, Vivienne Vance was brought down to the precinct for questioning. True to her arrogant nature, she arrived with a high-priced corporate defense attorney, Mr. Sterling, who projected an air of untouchable privilege.
“My client denies all absurd allegations,” Sterling declared in the interrogation room. “An elderly woman offering a piece of pastry to her purported grandson is hardly a criminal conspiracy. It is a family dispute blown completely out of proportion by an ambitious mother.”
Detective Vance leaned forward, placing a lab report on the metal table. “Mr. Sterling, let’s dispense with the theatrics. The preliminary toxicology report confirms that the pastry given exclusively to the four-year-old child contained lethal doses of Nerium oleander extract. That is attempted murder of a minor.”
Vivienne didn’t flinch. Her face remained carved from ancient ice. She adjusted her pearls and looked at the detective with undisguised contempt.
“That child is not a Vance,” Vivienne stated coldly, her voice echoing in the sterile room. “Caleb is my only biological son, yes. But years ago, before Caleb ever met this woman, genetic tests and medical records in our family vault proved certain truths about our lineage. That boy in the hospital has no Vance blood in his veins. He is a bastard child brought into this family to steal an inheritance that belongs rightfully to our legitimate dynasty.”
Outside the observation glass, Caleb stood listening through the audio feed. I watched as his face crumpled, not with doubt, but with profound disgust. He pushed open the door and stepped directly into the interrogation room.
“Mom,” Caleb’s voice was terrifyingly calm. “For thirty-two years, I tolerated your manipulation, your cruelty, and your narcissistic obsession with status. I thought you were just a bitter woman. But you tried to kill my son. And now you sit there spewing lies about his legitimacy?”
Vivienne looked up at her son, her eyes flashing with sudden fury. “You fool! You think you know everything because you wear our name? Look at the family trust documents, Caleb! Read the paternity addendum filed twenty-five years ago by your father before he died under mysterious circumstances! You aren’t even—”
She stopped abruptly, realizing she had said too much in front of the detectives.
May you like
Detective Vance narrowed his eyes. “What was that about your father, Mrs. Vance? Sounds like we have grounds to expand this investigation.”
As Vivienne was formally charged with attempted murder and child endangerment, Caleb pulled me into a tight embrace in the station hallway. “Clara, I swear to you, whatever secrets my mother is hiding, I am going to tear down every wall in that estate until we find the absolute truth.”
