Chapter 1 - THE LITTLE FISH
“Mom… there are little fish swimming in my tummy.”
I woke up at exactly 2:07 a.m.
For one terrifying second, I thought I was dreaming.
Then I saw Nancy standing in the doorway.
My five-year-old daughter was barefoot, her pink pajamas soaked with sweat. Her dark hair clung to her forehead, and both hands were pressed against her stomach.
I sat up immediately.
“Sweetheart, come here.”
She walked toward me, but halfway across the room, she bent over and whimpered.
“They’re biting me, Mommy.”
My heart stopped.
I rushed to her, lifted her into my arms, and pressed my hand against her forehead. No fever. But the moment I touched her stomach, her entire body tightened.
“Where does it hurt?”
“Everywhere.”
I looked toward the other side of the bed.
Brandon was gone.
My husband had been in Phoenix for a business conference. He had called earlier that evening and complained that I was asking too many questions about his schedule.
“I’ll be home tomorrow,” he had said.
Now, at two in the morning, I was carrying our daughter to the car alone.
The drive to the hospital felt endless.
Nancy cried quietly in the back seat.
“Mommy?”
“I’m here.”
“Am I going to die?”
My fingers tightened around the steering wheel.
“No. You’re going to be okay.”
I had no idea whether that was true.
At the emergency room, the doctors moved quickly. Nancy was placed on a bed, connected to monitors, and taken for an ultrasound.
The technician barely spoke.
She kept looking at the screen.
Then she left.
A few minutes later, a surgeon entered.
His expression made my stomach drop.
“Mrs. Carter, we need to perform an X-ray immediately.”
“Why?”
He didn't answer.
The X-ray revealed dozens of tiny bright objects inside my daughter's abdomen.
The doctor stared at the image.
Then he picked up the phone.
“I need to report a suspected child-abuse case.”
I felt my knees weaken.
“What?”
He turned toward me.
“There are multiple foreign objects inside your daughter's intestines.”
The police arrived before I could understand what was happening.
Officer Elliott asked me questions while another officer stood beside the door.
“Who is the child's primary caregiver?”
“I am.”
“Does anyone else live in the home?”
“My husband.”
“Where is he?”
“Phoenix.”
The officer looked at the X-ray.
“There are thirty-six magnets.”
I stared at him.
“Magnets?”
“High-powered magnets. They can attract each other through intestinal walls and cause serious internal injuries.”
My hands began to shake.
“But we don't have anything like that.”
The officer's eyes remained on me.
“Could your daughter have found them somewhere?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am her mother.”
The words came out sharper than I intended.
But no one seemed to care.
Hours later, Brandon arrived.
He didn't come alone.
His mother, Evelyn, was beside him.
I expected him to run to Nancy.
Instead, he looked at me.
“What did you do?”
The question hit harder than any accusation from the police.
“What?”
“How could you let her swallow thirty-six magnets?”
I stared at him.
“I didn't.”
Evelyn began crying.
“I always worried Samantha was distracted. She spends so much time on those online courses…”
I looked at her.
“My daughter is in surgery.”
Neither of them asked whether she was alive.
Then the surgeon appeared.
“Nancy survived,” he said. “But we had to remove a damaged section of her intestine.”
My world collapsed.
Brandon turned toward me.
“How could you not know?”
I slowly looked at him.
Then at Evelyn.
And suddenly, I remembered something.
The dining room camera.
The camera I had installed after noticing food disappearing from the kitchen.
It recorded everything.
I took out my phone.
“I want the police to check the footage.”
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For the first time, Evelyn stopped crying.
And I saw fear in her eyes.
