Her whispered sentences.
Her little body.
Evidence.
That night, Child Protective Services arrived.
The woman’s name was Rachel Moreno.
She had tired eyes and a soft voice.
She spoke to me like I was a mother, not a suspect.
That alone nearly made me cry.
“We’re putting a temporary safety plan in place,” she explained. “Diane Patterson is to have no contact with Emma. No visits, no calls, no messages, no third-party contact.”
“And Andrés?” I asked.
My voice sounded foreign.
Rachel glanced toward the hallway, where my husband was pacing with his phone in his hand.
“That depends on what we determine tonight. He’s not accused of administering medication, but we need to assess whether he failed to protect Emma or enabled access.”
Failed to protect.
