The silence hanging over the garden was heavy enough to crush bone. The security guard, his hands trembling, stepped forward and handed the sleek black tablet to Adrian. Vivian made a sudden, frantic lunging motion toward the device, her manicured nails reaching out like talons, but Adrian pivoted instantly, throwing his shoulder in her way.

Adrian blinked in utter confusion, holding his hands out in front of him. "What? What are you talking about? My son was just poisoned! The woman who did this is Vivian Cross—"

"Save it for the station, Harrington," Detective Vance interrupted, stepping forward with handcuffs drawn. "Twenty minutes ago, Miss Vivian Cross arrived at the Central Police Precinct accompanied by her legal team. She turned over audio files, bank transfer records, and a sworn statement."

Grace stepped in front of Adrian instinctively. "What statement? She pushed the baby into the pool! We have security footage!"

"Miss Cross claims that Mr. Harrington has been suffering from severe psychological breakdown since his wife's death," the detective said, unfazed. "She presented evidence showing that Mr. Harrington transferred five million dollars to an offshore account registered under your name, Grace Vance. She claims the two of you conspired to stage an accident to execute the baby for a massive trust-fund payout—and that when she tried to stop you today at the pool, Mr. Harrington assaulted her."

"That's absurd!" Adrian roared. "She framed us! Look at my son! He was poisoned with the same compound that killed my wife!"

"Which only proves our suspect had access to it," the detective replied coldly. "The warrant is signed by a judge, Mr. Harrington. Hands behind your back."

Grace stared at the detective, her mind racing at breakneck speed. Vivian wasn't just a cunning gold-digger; she was a criminal mastermind who had planned every single contingency. She knew the pool camera existed! She had deliberately pushed the stroller in front of the camera knowing Adrian would find it, using it as a distraction to delay them while her lawyers filed a pre-emptive strike with the police!

As the officer reached out to slap metal cuffs onto Adrian’s wrists, Adrian looked at Grace.

"Grace," he whispered desperately. "Don't let them take Leo. Please."

Grace looked from the handcuffs to the small hospital crib behind the glass where Leo lay sleeping under the oxygen hood. Then she looked at the service exit door at the end of the hallway, marked with a bright red sign.

Decision made.

Grace suddenly lunged to her right, knocking over a heavy stainless-steel medical tray. Syringes, metal bowls, and glass vials crashed onto the tiled floor with a deafening rattle, shattering and spilling across the hallway.