Chapter 4 - THE GRAVE WITH NO CHILD
We exhumed the grave.
I did not attend.
I wanted to.
Leah told me not to turn procedure into penance.
The coffin was small.
Inside were cremated remains.
Not enough for visual identification.
The original funeral file listed them as neonatal remains transferred from the hospital.
DNA analysis would take time.
Hospital chain-of-custody records were incomplete.
Four years old.
Staff changed.
Systems migrated.
No instant answers.
The funeral director remembered Nora.
“She handled everything.”
“Not Ethan?” Serena asked.
“He was sedated.”
I stared when Serena told me.
“I was?”
“Hospital notes show you received medication for acute distress.”
I remembered fragments.
My father beside me.
Nora.
A physician.
Then waking at home.
My father had died one year later.
The one person I might have asked was gone.
No mystery there.
Cancer.
Long documented illness.
Nothing to connect to Amelia.
I refused to let grief turn every death into conspiracy.
Amelia’s autopsy report finally arrived.
Cause:
Sudden cardiac arrhythmia in postpartum period.
Contributing factors:
Recent delivery.
Blood loss.
Underlying conduction abnormality suspected.
Toxicology:
Routine panel negative for common sedatives, opioids, alcohol.
No comprehensive toxin screening had been ordered.
Leah looked at me.
“That does not mean she was poisoned.”
“I know.”
“It means the original autopsy did not test for everything.”
“I know.”
The old video became partially authenticated.
Metadata placed it on Amelia’s phone.
Timestamp:
11:43 p.m. the night before she died.
The phone Lily carried was not Amelia’s original device.
It contained copied files.
Ruth said Nora gave her an old backup phone with the baby’s belongings.
Ruth later discovered a memory card.
She watched the video.
That was when she began doubting Nora’s story.
“What’s in it?” I asked.
Serena gave me only what prosecutors had cleared.
“Amelia recording from her hospital room.”
“Recording what?”
“Nora.”
“Doing what?”
“Talking.”
“About tea?”
A pause.
“Yes.”
I closed my eyes.
“Does Nora poison it on camera?”
“No.”
Important.
“What happens?”
“We need enhancement for parts.”
That was all.
The teacup from my study came back from preliminary testing.
No immediately dangerous substance detected.
Normal tea compounds.
A trace of a prescription medication.
Not mine.
Not enough information yet.
“What medication?”
Serena would not tell me until confirmation.
Nora’s attorney called contamination possible.
Correct.
The cup had shattered.
Tea hit floor.
Household residues existed.
We did not declare attempted murder.
But then Blackwood House pharmacy records showed the same medication had been prescribed years earlier to:
Amelia Blackwood.
For a short-term postpartum condition.
A medication that should have been destroyed after her death.
Nora had managed household medication disposal.
The past and present had touched the same cup.
Still not proof.
Then the DNA lab called.
Not the paternity test.
The grave.
May you like
The remains buried as Lily Blackwood were not from a newborn girl.
They were male.
