One detective held up a hand.
“Mr.
Vaughn, we need to speak with you about what happened at your home last night.”
Daniel looked toward Raffael.
“This is his doing.”
“No,” Evelyn said from behind him.
Her voice was weak, but the corridor went silent.
A nurse had brought her to the intensive-care doorway in a wheelchair despite Daniel’s objections.
A blanket covered her legs.
Her face was pale.
One hand rested protectively against her abdomen.
Daniel turned.
For one second, raw fear crossed his face.
Then the husband’s mask returned.
“Evelyn,” he said gently.
“You’re confused.
You’ve been through a terrible ordeal.”
She looked at him without blinking.
“You caused it.”
He moved toward her.
Raffael remained where he was.
The nurses and detectives formed the boundary Daniel could not cross.
Daniel lowered his voice.
“You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I know you shoved me.”
“You fell.”
“You called the clinic.”
“To help you.”
“You told them to send me home.”
Daniel’s eyes moved across the watching faces.
He realized everyone had heard the recording.
His expression hardened.
“This is Moretti manipulating you again.
He has always wanted control over you.”
Evelyn looked toward Raffael.
He did not speak for her.
He did not approach.
He gave her the space to answer.
That was when Daniel understood he had lost the only argument he believed would save him.
“No,” Evelyn said.
“Control was taking my phone.
Control was freezing my money.
Control was deciding which doctor could treat me after you hurt me.”
Daniel’s voice sharpened.
“Everything I did was to protect our life.”
“Our life?”
“Do you have any idea what your accusations will destroy?”
The question revealed him more completely than the recordings had.
Not once did he ask whether she was in pain.
Not once did he apologize.
He cared only about what her survival might cost him.
Evelyn straightened despite the effort it required.
“I nearly died, Daniel.”
He glanced toward the detectives.
“She is medicated.
She cannot give a reliable statement.”
