Mary Vane’s Arrest
MARY’S POV:
I tried again but nothing. Again and once again, nothing.
His phone was unreachable, or he was ignoring me, or he had turned it off entirely. I didn’t know which was worse.
I stared at my phone, my thumb hovering over his name, and I felt something cold settle into my stomach. He wasn’t coming. He wasn’t answering. He was out there somewhere, maybe with her, while I was here trying to protect our daughter from the consequences of his choices.
I put the phone down and walked back to the living room.
Elowen was still on the couch, still wrapped in the blanket, still staring at the television. But her eyes were glassy, unfocused, and I knew she wasn’t really watching.
“Mommy,” she said, her voice small. “Who were those people?”
“Nobody, baby. Just some people who made a mistake.”
“Why did they shout at you?”
I knelt down in front of her and took her hands. They were cold, even in mine.
“Because sometimes people believe things that aren’t true,” I said. “And sometimes they get angry about those things, even when they shouldn’t. But it’s not your job to worry about that. It’s my job. And I’m going to take care of it.”
She looked at me for a long moment. Then she nodded, slowly, and leaned forward to rest her head on my shoulder.
I held her there and tried to figure out what to do next.
The police arrived twenty minutes later.
Two officers, a man and a woman, both in uniform, both with faces that gave nothing away. I opened the door before they could knock, stepping out onto the porch and pulling the door closed behind me.
“Mrs. Vane?” the woman asked.
“Yes.”
“I’m Officer Delgado. This is Officer Miller. We received a call about a disturbance at this address.”
I nodded, my hands clasped in front of me. “A man broke my car window. He was shouting threats. He said I should leave my husband, called me names, said I was trying to hurt someone named Vesper. There were other people too, strangers who showed up at my house because someone posted my address online.”
Officer Delgado nodded, her expression neutral. “Do you know the man’s name?”
“No. I’ve never seen him before.”
“Do you have any idea why he would target you?”
I hesitated. The question felt like a trap, though I couldn’t say why. “There have been posts online. About my husband with another woman. People have been… speculating.”
“Speculating.”
“Spreading lies,” I said, and my voice came out harder than I intended. “Someone posted my address. And then that man showed up at my house, with my daughter inside, and he broke my window while she was watching.”


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