Andrew stared at Sophia.
“What did you give her?”
Sophia said nothing.
The confidence she had worn moments earlier had vanished. Her eyes darted toward the hallway, then toward Valerie, then back to Andrew.
“It was medicine,” she finally whispered.
“What medicine?”
“Something for anxiety.”
Andrew felt his stomach drop.
“She’s seven.”
“I didn’t know what else to do!” Sophia snapped. “She wouldn’t sleep. She cried all night. She kept asking for her mother.”
Andrew’s expression hardened.
“So you drugged my daughter?”
“No!”
Sophia took a step toward him.
“It wasn’t like that. I only gave her tiny amounts. I was trying to make things easier.”
“For who?”
Sophia froze.
“For Valerie,” she said weakly.
Andrew shook his head.
“No. You were trying to make her easier for you.”
Sirens sounded outside.
Valerie immediately grabbed Andrew’s hand.
The moment the paramedics entered the house, Sophia began talking rapidly.
“She has emotional problems. Her mother died. She has nightmares. Sometimes she doesn’t know what she’s saying.”
Andrew stepped between them.
“Don’t listen to her explanations. My daughter told me she was being hit and that she was being given something she was told was vitamins.”
One of the paramedics crouched beside Valerie.
“Hi, sweetheart. I’m going to ask you a few questions, okay?”
Valerie nodded.
“What did you take?”
“The purple one.”
“Do you know what it was called?”
She shook her head.
“What happened after you took it?”
Valerie looked at Andrew.
“I got very sleepy.”
“How sleepy?”
“I couldn’t wake up.”
The paramedic exchanged a serious glance with his partner.
“Let’s get her evaluated immediately.”
Andrew followed them toward the ambulance.
Then Sophia called after him.
“Andrew!”
He stopped.
She stood in the doorway, trembling.
“You’re making a mistake.”
He turned slowly.
“No,” he said. “The mistake was leaving my daughter alone with you.”
Then he walked away.
At the hospital, everything moved quickly.
Blood was drawn. Valerie was examined from head to toe. A pediatric specialist asked Andrew about the bruises, the injuries, the medication, and the changes he had noticed in his daughter over the previous months.
Andrew had answers.
And every answer made him feel worse.
“She started getting perfect grades.”
The doctor looked up.
“When?”
“About six months ago.”
“Was that unusual?”
Andrew swallowed.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“She used to make mistakes. Ask questions. Get distracted. She was a normal seven-year-old.”
He stared at the floor.
“Then suddenly she became perfect.”
The doctor was quiet.
Andrew continued.
“She stopped complaining. Stopped asking for things. Stopped talking about her mother.”
He closed his eyes.
“I thought she was growing up.”
The doctor gently said, “Sometimes children become unusually compliant when they’re frightened.”
The words hit him harder than any accusation.
Andrew remembered every recent conversation.
Valerie asking whether her homework was good enough.
Valerie apologizing when she spilled milk.
Valerie sitting perfectly still at dinner.
Valerie saying, “I’m sorry, Daddy,” whenever Andrew raised his voice—even when he wasn’t angry.
He had mistaken fear for maturity.
And Sophia had counted on that.
Two hours later, a detective arrived.
Her name was Detective Mara Collins.
She introduced herself calmly and asked Andrew to explain what had happened.
He did.
When he finished, she asked one question.
“Where is the medication?”
Andrew looked at his phone.
“I don’t know.”
Then he remembered Valerie’s words.
“The purple medicine.”
Detective Collins nodded.
“We need to find it.”
Andrew called his housekeeper.
“Mrs. Bennett, I need you to do something for me.”
“Yes, Mr. Salgado?”
“Don’t touch anything. Don’t clean Valerie’s room. Don’t throw anything away.”
There was a pause.
“Is something wrong?”
“Just do exactly what I’m asking.”
After he hung up, another call came through.
It was his security manager.
“Mr. Salgado, there’s something you need to know.”
“What?”
“We reviewed the hallway cameras.”
Andrew’s heart began pounding.
“And?”
“The cameras were disabled every evening for approximately fifteen minutes.”
“By whom?”
“We’re still checking.”
Andrew looked at Detective Collins.
“Can you send me the footage?”
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