Custody

The passport was a shield, a small blue booklet that held back the chaos. The officer stared at it, then at Elias, then at Julian.

"Mr. Vance?" the officer asked, turning to Julian. "I thought you said your nephew was missing."

"He was!" Julian sputtered, water dripping from his expensive suit. "He wandered off. He's been living on the streets. He's confused."

"I haven't been on the streets," Elias said, his voice gaining strength. "I've been in the Carriage House. Locked in a room behind a false wall."

He pointed to Iris. "She found me."

The officer looked at Iris. Her hands were still raised, her wrists cuffed. Mud streaked her face, but her eyes were defiant.

"Check the basement of the main house," she said. "The fire started in the attic. The basement might still be intact. There's a room behind the wine rack. A cell."

Julian laughed, a harsh, desperate sound. "She's delusional! She burned down the house because she was angry about the inheritance! She's trying to frame me!"

"Sir, please lower your voice," the officer said.

"Don't tell me what to do!" Julian snapped. "I own this town! I pay your salary!"

The officer's face hardened. "Sir, I'm going to need you to come with us to the station. We have a lot to sort out."

"I'm not going anywhere," Julian said. "I'm the victim here!"

"You're a suspect," the officer corrected. He gestured to his partner. "Read him his rights."

Julian’s face went purple. He tried to back away, but two officers grabbed his arms. They forced him to the ground, handcuffing him not gently, but with the rough efficiency reserved for criminals.

"You'll regret this!" Julian screamed as they hauled him up. "I'll have your badges! I'll have your pensions!"

They shoved him into the back of a cruiser. The door slammed shut, silencing his threats.

Iris let out a breath she felt she had been holding for weeks. Her knees buckled.

"Easy," Marcus said, catching her.

An officer approached them. He unlocked Iris's cuffs. "Ms. Vance? We'll need your statement. And you'll need to be treated for your injuries."

"I'm fine," Iris said, rubbing her wrists. "What about Elias?"

"He's going to the hospital," the officer said. "For a full evaluation. And we'll need to verify his identity."

"He has his passport," Iris said.

"It's a start," the officer said. "But given the circumstances... guardianship is a tricky legal area."

"He doesn't need a guardian," Iris said fiercely. "He needs a lawyer."

"I'll handle it," Marcus said. "My sister is a family law attorney in the city. She hates Julian. She'll take the case."

They watched as Elias was led to the ambulance. He didn't look scared anymore. He looked tired. Worn down. But alive.

He stopped before climbing in. He looked back at Iris.

"Thank you," he mouthed.

Then he was gone. The ambulance doors closed. The siren wailed, a mournful sound in the quiet night.

Iris sat in the back of another cruiser, wrapped in a blanket. She watched the paramedics load the guard Julian had abandoned. She watched the fire trucks spraying water on the smoldering ruins of Mercer Hall.

It was over. The house was gone. The secret was out.

But as they drove away, following the ambulance, a sleek black sedan pulled out of a side road and fell in behind them.

It wasn't a police car. It wasn't a news van.

It was a town car. Expensive. Tinted windows.

Iris watched it in the rearview mirror. It followed them all the way to the hospital.

When they arrived, Iris was ushered into the ER. She was separated from Marcus. Separated from Elias.

She sat on a gurney, waiting for a doctor.

The curtain parted.

It wasn't a doctor.

It was Julian.

He wasn't in handcuffs. He was clean, dry, wearing a fresh suit. He held a clipboard.

"Hello, Iris," he said, smiling.

"How?" Iris whispered. "The police took you."

"A misunderstanding," Julian said, checking a box on the form. "My lawyers cleared it up. I have power of attorney, Iris. Over Elias. And, thanks to your little stunt on the highway, over you too."

He tapped the clipboard.

"Reckless driving. Endangerment. Arson. The DA is very concerned about your mental state. He thinks a 72-hour hold is... generous."

"You won't get away with this," Iris said, her voice shaking. "Everyone saw you. The police saw you."

"They saw a distraught uncle trying to save his family," Julian said. "They saw a confused nephew. And they saw a hysterical woman who crashed a van."

He leaned in close.

"He's incompetent, Iris. His word means nothing. And yours means even less."