Vivian instantly flanked her son, her voice snapping like a brittle twig.

“She’s been secretly recording her own family inside her own home? That’s an invasion of privacy! If anything, this proves she planned this entire fiasco to frame us!”

With a swift, dramatic sweep of her arm, Dr. Ortiz yanked the privacy curtain back along its metal track.

Standing rigidly behind her were two uniformed detectives, their expressions hardened into stone.

The blood instantly drained from Daniel’s perfectly tanned face, leaving him looking like a wax figure left too close to a radiator.

“My wife needs immediate psychiatric and medical treatment, officers, not a traumatic interrogation,” Daniel demanded, stepping forward to physically block their line of sight to my bed.