Chapter 5 - The Medical Record Lie
Boots crunched heavily over broken glass.
Ryan instantly pivoted, dropping to the floor to grab the baseball bat, stepping between the entryway and the kitchen. “Get behind me!” he barked at me, his former defense fading into pure protective instinct.
Two large men in tailored gray suits stepped through the ruined front frame. Right behind them was a sharp-featured woman in a navy-blue skirt suit holding a thick black binder and an official state badge.
“Claire Vance?” the woman asked, her voice cold, professional, and entirely devoid of emotion. “I am Officer Vance from the Franklin County Child Protective Services, accompanied by officers from the County Sheriff’s Department.”
“What is the meaning of this?” Ryan yelled, raising the bat. “You just broke into my home!”
“Put the bat down, sir, or you will be arrested for obstructing state officers,” one of the men growled, unholstering a taser from his belt.
The woman in the navy suit stepped forward, opening her binder. “We received an urgent, court-stamped emergency custody petition filed two hours ago by your mother, Diane Mercer, supported by a sworn medical affidavit.”
I held Ava tighter against my chest. “An affidavit for what? She’s lying!”
“The affidavit, signed by Dr. Harrison at the regional clinic, states that you have been suffering from severe, acute postpartum psychosis since giving birth nine days ago,” Officer Vance read smoothly. “It claims you have expressed violent delusions and attempted to harm your infant child tonight at your parents’ residence.”
“That is a lie!” I shouted, my voice cracking with desperation. “She tried to burn Ava! She tried to drop her into a fire pit! Ask my husband!”
Officer Vance turned her eyes to Ryan, a thin, cruel smile touching her lips. “Your husband? Mr. Vance, your mother-in-law provided bank records showing a fifty-thousand-dollar transfer to your account three days ago. According to the petition, that money was paid to secure private psychiatric care for your wife—a fee you accepted while concealing her escalating mental instability.”
I looked at Ryan. He looked back at me, utter terror in his eyes as the full, brilliant wickedness of Diane’s plot revealed itself.
Diane hadn't just given Ryan that money to help him. She had paid him via check to create a paper trail—a paper trail she could use to frame him as a accomplice who took money to cover up my 'psychosis.'
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Diane didn't need to kill Ava. She just needed the state to remove Ava from our home for twenty-one days. If Ava was placed in emergency foster custody or handed over to her grandmother until the thirty-day window passed, the legal trust deadline would expire, defaulting the Mercer estate back into Diane’s hands forever.
“We are executing an emergency protection order,” Officer Vance declared, gesturing to the two men. “Surrender the infant immediately, Mrs. Vance.”
