The Wedding Cake Fell—Then the Little Girl Whispered, “I Didn’t Do It.”

Daniel turned toward the ballroom so fast Nathan nearly dropped the phone.

His champagne flute still sat near the head table.

Untouched since the cake fell.

Security bagged it.

The hotel’s on-call medical team used a rapid screening kit while Nathan called a private lab.

Vanessa stood with her arms wrapped around herself.

“What were they trying to do?”

Daniel did not answer.

The medic looked up ten minutes later.

“This isn’t definitive, but there’s a sedative present.”

Noah’s face crumpled. “They wanted Dad to get sick?”

Daniel crouched beside him.

“I’m okay.”

“But you drank some.”

Daniel remembered the toast.

One sip.

Maybe two.

He had felt slightly lightheaded before the cake fell, but he had blamed nerves and lack of food.

Nathan’s expression sharpened. “A sedative, a staged public scene, forged medical records… somebody wanted witnesses to see you confused or aggressive.”

Grant looked sick.

“And I was supposed to be the person he got aggressive with.”

Daniel stared at him.

Grant pointed to the ballroom. “Think about it. I’m standing near the cake. It crashes. Emma points at me. You confront me. If you’d had more of that drink…”

“You think I’d have hit you.”

“I think Crowe wanted you to.”

Vanessa whispered, “Then he could use the video in court.”

Rachel suddenly spoke.

“There is video.”

Everyone looked at her.

She pointed toward the ceiling.

“Not hotel security. The wedding videographer. He had three cameras running the whole time.”

Daniel found the videographer near the loading dock, packing equipment with shaking hands.

“I need the raw footage.”

The man hesitated. “Someone already took one of my memory cards.”

“Who?”