“Yes,” she said.
“The staircase is recorded.”
A security supervisor approached with a tablet held against his chest so its display could not be seen by the crowd.
He spoke quietly to Dr.
Cole, who then asked the officers to join her a few feet away.
They watched the footage together.
No one showed it publicly, but I did not need to see it.
I remembered every movement.
Savannah approaching from behind.
Her gaze dropping to my feet.
Her heel sliding sideways.
The deliberate hook behind my ankle.
My body pitching toward the marble edge.
Preston standing close enough to reach me and choosing not to move.
One officer looked up from the tablet and asked Savannah to step away from Preston.
“Why?” she demanded.
“We need to speak with you separately.”
“It was an accident.”
“Then you can explain that.”
Savannah looked at Preston for rescue.
He gave her none.
Instead, he addressed the taller medic.
“Tell them my wife became violent.”
The medic stared at him.
“She didn’t.”
Preston’s head snapped around.
The man swallowed.
“She told us not to touch her.
That was all.”
The second medic spoke next, words rushing out as fear overtook loyalty.
“We were told the paperwork was complete.
We were told Dr.
Mercer had approved the hold.”
“Who gave you those instructions?” an officer asked.
The medic glanced at Preston.
“Mr.
Hartwell’s office.”
Preston’s face became unreadable.
“You are confused,” he said.
The medic shook his head.
“The pickup was scheduled yesterday.
We were supposed to move her through the service exit before noon.”
Savannah began breathing faster.
“Preston, you told me the hold would only last until the baby was delivered.”
He turned toward her with naked fury.
Too late.
Everyone had heard.
Celia’s eyes narrowed.
“Until the baby was delivered?”
Savannah seemed to realize what she had admitted.
She stepped backward, one hand rising toward her mouth.
Preston tried to repair the damage.
“She is upset and inventing things.”
Savannah stared at him.
“You booked the private suite.
You showed me the nursery.
