Chapter 3 - The Gathering of the Vance Family
While Oliver slept peacefully under observation in the pediatric ward, the Vance family was holding a panic meeting at their grand, six-bedroom estate in the wealthy suburb of Fairview.
Nathan, his parents Evelyn and Arthur, and his sister Clara sat around the marble dining table. On the table lay four wine glasses and a half-empty bottle of expensive cabernet—a leftover from their evening.
Nathan was pacing back and forth across the Persian rug, clutching a glass of scotch with shaking hands.
"She called the police!" Nathan shouted, his face red and blotchy. "She was at the ER! She said the doctor diagnosed him with hypothermia!"
Evelyn Vance sat back in her high-backed chair, delicately adjusting her pearl necklace. Her face carried no remorse, only deep annoyance. "Oh, please, Nathan, calm down. Sarah is an emotional, dramatic woman. She’s always looking for a reason to make us look bad because she comes from a working-class background."
"Mom!" Nathan yelled. "The doctor said his temperature was ninety-four degrees!"
"He was outside for a brief spell because he refused to act like a civilized child!" Evelyn snapped, setting her tea cup down with a sharp clatter. "We had reservations at a four-star restaurant. He threw a temper tantrum over a pair of crayons, he knocked over a glass of water, and he embarrassed us in front of the mayor's wife! You did what any firm father would do. You disciplined him."
Arthur Vance, Nathan’s father and a senior partner at Vance & Sterling Commercial Real Estate, cleared his throat, his dark eyes narrowing. "Did you lock him in the car, Nathan?"
"I... I thought the car was unlocked," Nathan lied, avoiding his father's gaze. "I told him to sit in the backseat."
"He was standing outside the window, Nathan," Clara said casually, scrolling through her phone. "We all saw him. He was tapping on the glass while Mom was having her appetizer. Mom pulled the blind down so the other patrons wouldn't think we were having a family argument."
Arthur slammed his hand onto the table, making the glasses ring. "You idiots!" he roared, standing up. "Do you have any idea what this looks like if it gets out to the press?! I am running for the regional chamber of commerce presidency! My firm is negotiating a forty-million-dollar city contract!"
"We can handle Sarah," Evelyn said smoothly, her voice laced with venom. "We give her a little money, we offer her a nice quiet divorce settlement, and we tell her that if she makes a scandal, we will use our legal team to take Oliver away from her completely."
Before Nathan could respond, the front doorbell rang—a loud, piercing chime that echoed through the grand house.
Nathan went pale. "Who is that at one in the morning?"
Arthur adjusted his suit jacket, walking toward the foyer. "It’s probably just Sarah coming to pick up her clothes. I'll handle her."
Arthur pulled the grand mahogany front door open.
Standing on the front porch were four city police officers, accompanied by Officer Rebecca Torres and two state troopers.
"Arthur Vance?" Officer Torres asked, pulling a set of papers from her coat.
May you like
"Yes?" Arthur said, trying to adopt his usual authoritative executive posture. "What is the meaning of this intrusion?"
"We have felony arrest warrants for Nathan Vance, Evelyn Vance, and Clara Vance," Officer Torres declared calmly, as the officers stepped past him into the foyer. "For criminal child endangerment, reckless endangerment of a minor, and failure to render aid."
