I watched her carefully.
Not once did she ask how bad the fracture was.
Not once did she ask whether Paige was going to recover.
Her first question was, “When did this happen?”
The doctor answered, “We cannot determine the exact moment from the examination alone.”
Kate exhaled.
Then she looked directly at me.
“That’s what I was afraid of.”
I felt something cold move through me.
“What were you afraid of?”
She didn’t answer.
The investigator stepped between us.
“Ms. Kate, we need to understand the condition Paige was in when you brought her to your sister’s home.”
“She was fine.”
“You’re certain?”
“Yes.”
“Then why was her injured thigh covered with cosmetic concealer?”
Kate froze.
The silence was so complete that I could hear the wheels of a hospital cart squeaking somewhere down the corridor.
“I don’t know,” she finally said.
I stared at her.
“You don’t know?”
“No.”
“You put makeup on her.”
“I did not.”
The investigator looked down at her notes.
“Your sister found a floral cosmetic scent on the area. The doctor documented residue consistent with a cosmetic product. The discoloration underneath was concealed by a thick layer.”
Kate’s face tightened.
“That doesn’t prove I did it.”
“No,” the investigator said calmly. “It doesn’t.”
That answer seemed to surprise Kate.
For the first time since she arrived, she looked less confident.
The investigator continued.
“But it does mean we need to establish who had access to Paige before she was brought here.”
Kate immediately pointed at me.
