"You were there. You're part of this." His voice left no room for argument. "Please."
So I followed him down the hall to the private lounge the hospital had provided, my coffee growing cold in my hands. Miles Cameron was already there, tablet open, his demeanor all sharp professional intensity. He had the particular energy of a lawyer who billed by the hour and was worth every cent.
"The police have the security footage," Miles said without preamble. "It shows Victoria's vehicle accelerating from a stop, not just pulling out. Millie was visible for at least three seconds before impact."
"Three seconds," Nathaniel repeated flatly.
"More than enough time to brake. It completely negates any 'came out of nowhere' defense." Miles glanced at me, then backto Nathaniel. "She's been arrested. Reckless endangerment and assault with a motor vehicle."
Something cold and satisfied coursed through my body. Good.
"Bail?" Nathaniel asked.
"Set at five hundred thousand. Her family posted it. She's out."
I must have made a sound, because both men looked at me.
"She'sout?" My voice came out strangled. "After what she did?"
"Temporarily," Miles said, his tone reassuring. "The restraining order is a condition of her release. She cannot come within five hundred yards of Millie, Nathaniel, the residence, or Millie's school. No contact, directly or through third parties. Any violation sends her straight back to jail."
"It's not enough," Nathaniel said. His voice was flat, but I could see the rage simmering beneath. "She needs to be gone. Permanently."
"This is the fastest path," Miles assured him. "The criminal charges give us immense leverage. The emergency custody hearing is set for Friday. With the restraining order and this evidence, full legal and physical custody is virtually guaranteed."
"And the divorce?"
"Fast-tracked. Alimony will be contested, but given the circumstances?—"
"I don't care about the money." Nathaniel's gaze was fixed on some middle distance. "I care about my daughter never having to see that woman again."
"That's the goal." Miles closed his tablet. "I'll need Claire's formal statement about what she witnessed. Can you both come to the office this afternoon?"
Nathaniel looked at me. I nodded.
"We'll be there at three," he said.
After Miles left, the silence in the lounge was heavy. Nathaniel slumped into one of the ugly chairs, the relentless energy draining from him. He ran a hand over his face, and for a moment, he wasn't a CEO going to war. He was just an exhausted father, terrified and barely holding on.
"She's going to be okay," I said softly. The words felt inadequate. Everything felt inadequate.
He looked up at me, his eyes hollow. "She wouldn't be in that bed if it weren't for me."
"No." The word came out sharper than I intended. "She's in that bed because of Victoria. Don't you dare take that on yourself."
"What about you?" He searched my face. "You're blaming yourself. I can see it."
The directness broke through my composure. My eyes filled with tears I'd been holding for hours.
"I was right there, Nathaniel. I was supposed to be watching her."
"You were giving her a moment of normalcy." He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "In a house where she's had to tiptoe like a ghost. What happened wasn't your inattention, Claire. It was Victoria's rage."
"But if I'd been faster?—"
"Then what? You'd have thrown yourself in front of a car?" His voice was gentle. "You're not her bodyguard. You're the person who makes her feel safe enough to play outside again in the first place. That's not nothing. That's everything."
The tears spilled over. I couldn't stop them.
