Chapter 2 - The Assessment
They scrambled. The sight of Marcus practically tripping over his designer loafers while Serena shoved her feet into her stilettos—leaving the silk shirt behind in her panic—was pathetic. The heavy oak door slammed shut behind them, leaving the house in a sudden, ringing silence.
I didn't care where they went. Right now, there was only one thing that mattered.
"Chloe, baby," I whispered, sinking to the floor right there in the foyer. "It's okay. They're gone. Mama is here. The bad lady is gone."
I gently pried her arms from my neck, needing to look at her. When I saw her left hand, my heart stopped. The skin was broken, a crescent-shaped gash leaking blood where Serena’s heel had dug in. Her knuckles were swollen.
I pulled my secure phone out again and hit speed dial for Dr. Aris Thorne. Aris wasn't a pediatrician; he was the trauma surgeon for my federal task force. He asked no questions and left no paper trails until I told him to.
"Thorne," his gruff voice answered on the first ring.
"Aris. I need you at my house. Bring a pediatric kit and a forensics camera. Now."
"Ten minutes," he said, and hung up.
I carried Chloe to the kitchen, sitting her on the marble island. I grabbed the first-aid kit and began carefully cleaning her hand. She didn't cry. She didn't make a sound. She just stared at me with huge, hollow eyes that broke my heart into a million jagged pieces.
"Chloe," I choked out, a tear finally escaping and tracking through the dirt on my face. "Talk to me, sweetie. Did she hurt you anywhere else?"
Chloe blinked, but her lips remained sealed tightly shut. The trauma had locked her voice away inside a dark, terrifying cage.
Ten minutes later, Aris came through the side door. He was a massive man with a gentle touch. When he saw Chloe, his professional demeanor tightened into cold fury.
"What happened, Jess?" he asked softly, opening his medical bag.
"My husband left her with his mistress. For weeks."
Aris methodically examined her. He documented the hand, the bruising on her arms, and a faint, yellowish mark near her ribs that made my vision go red. He took high-definition photos of every injury, time-stamped and watermarked.
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"The physical wounds will heal in a week," Aris said quietly, stepping away from the island while Chloe sucked on a lollipop he had given her. "The psychological ones... Jess, she's in shock. She’s exhibiting selective mutism induced by severe trauma. You need to crush whoever did this."
"I plan to," I said, my voice devoid of emotion. "I'm going to take everything they have."
