Chapter 6 - Their Version of MeAt seven that evening, Trent's attorney delivered a letter to the hospital. It accused me of making false allegations during a mental health crisis. It requested that my medical team restrict visits from Alex, whom the letter described as volatile and dangerous.

I sat on the edge of the bed with the pages shaking in my hands.

"They've rehearsed this," I said.

Dana read the letter. "An attorney's allegations aren't medical facts. You have choices about visitors, and your doctors will make their own clinical judgments."

"What if people believe him?"

"Then we keep showing them what actually happened."

A detective named Sarah Bell interviewed me the next morning. I gave her dates, locations, and the names of people who had seen bruises. I told her which doors locked from the outside and which cameras Trent controlled. I didn't remember everything in order. She didn't punish me for that.

When I mentioned the emergency audio, Bell asked whether it had saved to my cloud account. My phone still showed a partial upload. We waited as the bar inched across the screen.

At ninety-eight percent, a message appeared: ACCOUNT ACCESS REVOKED.

"Trent controls the family plan," I said. "He can shut it off."

Alex had already suspected that. He'd brought a prepaid phone and written essential numbers on paper.

"We don't need his permission," he told me.

Bell requested preservation of relevant evidence through lawful channels and took my statement about Nicole's video. For a moment I felt hopeful.

Then I received a photograph from a number I didn't recognize. It showed the blue folder on Trent's desk, half-open. On the visible page was a typed paragraph claiming I had voluntarily surrendered financial control to Richard.

The message underneath said: I CAN GET YOU THE ORIGINALS. MEET ME ALONE.

No signature. No name.

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Two minutes later, a second message appeared.

DON'T TRUST THE PERSON SLEEPING OUTSIDE YOUR HOSPITAL ROOM.