Chapter 3
The sealed nursery contained no dramatic treasure.
That made it more powerful.
Ordinary proof has a way of surviving lies.
A feeding notebook.
Two columns.
Maisie — 2:10 a.m.
Iris — 2:34 a.m.
Diaper records.
Temperature checks.
Tiny ink footprints.
Two lockets.
Two unfinished baby books.
One page in Juliet’s handwriting:
Maisie grabs first. Iris listens first. Both know my voice.
Dominic sat on the dusty floor reading that line until Detective Walsh said his name twice.
“Mr. Valenti.”
He looked up.
“Why didn’t I know?”
No one answered.
The hospital records showed Juliet had been transferred from the mansion to a private maternity wing under a restricted privacy arrangement.
Official record:
Single live birth.
Maisie Valenti.
No stillbirth.
No twin.
But the ultrasound images in the nursery were marked:
Twin A. Twin B.
The obstetrician who had handled the delivery had retired suddenly six years earlier and moved to Arizona.
The private nurse who signed postpartum care notes had died of cancer.
Lucinda had controlled the household files.
Dominic’s attorney said:
“We need to slow down.”
Dominic said:
“No.”
“We don’t know if these materials are authentic.”
Dominic held up the notebook.
“My wife wrote this.”
“Handwriting can be authenticated.”
“Then authenticate it.”
Lucinda refused to answer questions without counsel.
Her first public explanation was that Juliet had suffered a delusional attachment to an imaginary second baby after childbirth.
Detective Walsh asked:
“So Juliet created two cribs, feeding logs, ultrasound labels, and duplicate baby items because of a delusion?”
Lucinda said:
“Postpartum illness can be severe.”
“Did a doctor diagnose that?”
“I was told so.”
“By whom?”
Lucinda looked away.
That was the first crack.
Then Maisie’s doctor examined the child and reported no serious injury.
But because a child had been shoved, child protective services opened a case.
Dominic expected the focus to be Lucinda.
The caseworker corrected him.
“We evaluate the whole environment.”
“I didn’t hurt my daughter.”
“You hit an adult in front of her after a confrontation.”
Dominic’s jaw tightened.
Then he nodded.
May you like
His mansion, his violence, his people, his secrets.
The court was not going to pretend Maisie lived in a normal house because Dominic loved her.
