My Brother Hid a Recording Module Beneath His Daughter’s Dining Chair
“A protective hold went on at ten forty,” Elena said.
“Forty-eight hours.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning your brother can’t sign her out tonight.
Not through the front door, not through a side one.”
“He’ll say she has a fever.”
“The doctor already documented the marks, and the social worker signed.” She tapped the clipboard.
Down the corridor, Marcus’s voice asked where the charts were kept.
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