The ballroom doors burst open before Preston could answer me.
Two Chicago police officers entered first.
Paramedics rushed behind them carrying a stretcher and medical equipment.
The guests who had refused to move suddenly scattered out of their way.
One paramedic knelt beside Sophie.
He carefully examined the wound near her temple while another wrapped gauze around her head.
“She needs to go to the hospital immediately.”
I nodded and climbed onto the stretcher beside her.
Preston stepped forward.
“This is a family misunderstanding.”
One officer turned toward him.
“A child was struck with a wooden object.”
Preston’s face hardened.
“She stole my phone.”
The officer stared at him.
“That does not give you the right to attack her.”
My mother hurried forward.
“My son didn’t attack anyone.”
She pointed at Sophie as though my unconscious daughter were the criminal.
“The girl caused a disturbance and Preston reacted.”
I had spent my entire life watching my mother rearrange the truth to protect him.
This time, there were two hundred witnesses.
More importantly, there was a camera.
The hotel’s security director appeared near the ballroom entrance.
His name tag read Daniel Ross.
He looked at the officer and spoke quietly.
“We have surveillance footage.”
Preston’s expression changed.
Only slightly.
But I saw it.
His eyes flicked toward the camera above the door.
His bride, Camille Whitmore, reached for his arm.
Her face had turned pale.
My father stepped between Daniel and the police.
“This hotel belongs to the Whitmore family.”
Daniel did not move.
“The footage belongs to the investigation now.”
Camille’s father, Henry Whitmore, marched across the ballroom.
He was a tall man with silver hair and the confidence of someone accustomed to buying silence.
“No footage leaves this building without authorization.”
The older officer looked directly at him.
“Interfere with evidence, and you can explain yourself downtown.”
Henry stopped.
For the first time, the powerful Whitmore family looked uncertain.
The paramedics began rolling Sophie toward the exit.
As we passed Preston, he leaned closer.
“You’re destroying this family.”
I looked at the blood on my hands.
“No.”
I met his eyes.
“You did that when you touched my daughter.”
Behind us, Daniel led the police toward the security office.
Preston tried to follow.
An officer blocked him.
Then Daniel turned to me.
“There is something else you need to know.”
His voice dropped.
“Your brother wasn’t the only person near Sophie’s jacket.”
I stopped breathing.
Daniel glanced toward my mother.
“And the second person appears to be someone from your own family.”
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