Chapter 4 - The Hidden Files
The photograph had been taken six months earlier. Rebecca was curled up next to the bathtub in a bathrobe. A yellow pill bottle lay near her hand. The image suggested an overdose, a blackout, or negligence.
The truth was less dramatic, but equally painful. She had suffered a panic attack after Trevor locked her in the bathroom during an argument. When he left, she took a dose of the anti-anxiety medication her OB-GYN had prescribed during her previous postpartum period and lay on the cold tile until she could breathe normally again.
Emma was sleeping in her crib. Trevor had photographed Rebecca through the half-open door. He had never mentioned the photo to her.
The pill bottle in the picture was standing upright, its label facing the camera.
Maya studied the details. "This looks staged."
"It happened."
"Something happening and someone staging how it should be remembered are two different things."
Trevor's petition contained more. A declaration from his sister, Caroline, described Rebecca as unstable and dependent on her father. A former housekeeper claimed Rebecca sometimes stayed in bed until noon. Trevor included text messages where Rebecca wrote that she wanted to disappear.
The text was sent during a bout of postpartum depression, eleven months after Emma was born. Trevor had omitted his own reply: Stop being so dramatic.
Which was followed by Rebecca's response: You're right. Forget it.
The court scheduled a date for the temporary orders hearing. Until then, the restraining order kept Trevor away from Rebecca, but the family court had to determine if he could have contact with Emma and under what conditions.
Maya advised Rebecca to obtain her complete medical records. "Don't sugarcoat them," she said. "If you had postpartum depression, we'll address it. Receiving mental health treatment doesn't disqualify anyone from being a mother. Hiding it, however, can make you look untruthful."
Rebecca signed releases for her OB-GYN, her therapist, and her primary care doctor. The records reflected that she had sought help for anxiety and insomnia after the birth. They also showed she followed medical advice, attended her appointments, and never expressed thoughts of harming Emma.
One nursing note troubled her: Patient reports bruise on right arm caused by colliding with a doorframe while carrying a laundry basket.
Rebecca remembered Trevor's fingers. He had grabbed her because she refused to cancel a lunch date with Richard. She had lied to the nurse. Correcting the lie now wouldn't alter the old entry. It would just create a new statement subject to scrutiny.
Maya arranged a meeting for Rebecca to give a detailed statement to the investigators with her attorney present. Rebecca described the bruise on her arm, the broken door to the nursery, the reckless driving, the financial control, and how Trevor would listen at the door during her online therapy sessions.
"Why didn't you report this at the time?" Officer Ortiz asked.
"Because each incident seemed small once it was over."
"Did Trevor ever threaten to kill you?"
"No."
"Did he threaten to take Emma away?"
"Yes."
"What did he say?"
"That no judge would give a daughter to a woman who couldn't function without her father's money."
"Did he mention having proof?"
Rebecca looked at the photograph of the bathroom floor. "He said he had proof of what I was really like."
The police requested a search warrant to examine Trevor's devices and cloud accounts for evidence of the assault, unauthorized surveillance, and possible white-collar crimes. The warrants were narrow in scope and required probable cause. Richard's lawyers couldn't simply demand access.
The family home remained sealed. Rebecca was allowed to return with a police escort to retrieve clothes, pregnancy records, Emma's favorite blanket, and essential personal items.
She walked in accompanied by an officer and a social worker. The light blue living room was clean. The blood was gone. The sofa cushions were straightened. Only a faint mark remained on the carpet where the piece of tooth had fallen.
Rebecca's body remembered before her mind did. Her knees buckled. The social worker asked if she wanted to step outside. "No."
She gathered Emma's clothes from the nursery. Inside the white noise machine on the dresser, something rattled. Rebecca unplugged it and showed it to the officer.
A slot had been cut into the back plastic casing. Inside was a memory card.
Rebecca stared at it. "I didn't put that there."
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The officer didn't insert it into a computer. The device and the card were photographed, bagged, and sent to the forensics lab.
Before leaving, Rebecca opened the toddler's closet. Behind a stack of diaper boxes was a black external hard drive with a label: FAMILY ARCHIVE. A strip of masking tape on the side bore Trevor's handwriting: KEEP UNTIL R. BREAKS.
