Chapter 1 - THE VOICE ON THE PHONE
David’s confident smile vanished instantly.
The voice on the speaker was calm, deep, and unmistakably official.
“Office of the Chief Justice.”
“Please identify yourself.”
David stared at the phone.
Sylvia’s mocking expression faded.
The guests in the dining room slowly turned toward the kitchen.
David cleared his throat.
“This is David Mercer.”
“I’m calling for a man who claims to be Anna’s father.”
There was a brief pause.
Then the voice became colder.
“Mr. Mercer, this is Special Agent Marcus Reed.”
“You have reached the secure residence line of Chief Justice Jonathan Hale.”
David’s fingers tightened around the phone.
One of his colleagues quietly set down his wineglass.
David forced a laugh.
“There must be some misunderstanding.”
“My wife gave me this number as a joke.”
I pressed both hands against my stomach.
Another wave of pain moved through me.
I could barely breathe.
“Tell him Anna Hale is on the floor,” I whispered.
David looked down at me.
For one second, I saw him calculating.
He was deciding whether to lie.
Sylvia leaned toward the phone.
“This woman is not Anna Hale.”
“She is Anna Mercer.”
“She has no family.”
Agent Reed heard her.
“Who is speaking?”
“Sylvia Mercer.”
“Anna’s mother-in-law.”
“What is Anna’s current condition?”
David quickly answered.
“She is being dramatic.”
“She slipped.”
“No one touched her.”
I forced my voice higher.
“I was pushed into the counter.”
“I’m bleeding.”
“My phone was destroyed when I tried to call 911.”
The entire house became silent.
Agent Reed did not raise his voice.
That made his next words more frightening.
“Mr. Mercer, do not move your wife.”
“Do not prevent her from receiving medical attention.”
“Emergency services and federal protective agents are being dispatched now.”
David’s face turned pale.
“You can’t send federal agents to my house.”
“I’m an attorney.”
Agent Reed paused.
“Then you understand that interfering with emergency medical assistance may become evidence.”
David looked toward the dining room.
His colleagues no longer looked amused.
One of them, Assistant District Attorney Rachel Monroe, quietly removed her phone from her purse.
Sylvia rushed forward.
“Hang up.”
David hesitated.
My father’s voice suddenly came through the speaker.
“Anna?”
The sound of him broke something inside me.
“Dad.”
My voice trembled.
“I need help.”
A terrible silence followed.
Then Chief Justice Jonathan Hale spoke with the controlled anger of a man who had spent his life refusing to let emotion weaken the truth.
“Help is already coming.”
David finally understood.
I was not an orphan.
I had never been alone.
And the man he had just prevented from calling an ambulance was not simply my father.
He was the highest-ranking judge in the country.
Sirens began rising beyond the snow-covered street.
David looked toward the front windows.
Then he looked at the broken phone on the kitchen floor.
May you like
For the first time in our marriage, he appeared afraid of the law.
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