“Explain the facts to me,” I said, without beating around the bush. “Her version first.”
Spencer nodded and consulted his notes.
“Ms. Chelsea Brooks filed the complaint at 11:43 p.m. She arrived accompanied by her husband, Mr. Robert Stone—your son. She alleges that, at approximately 10:30 p.m., the minor Ethan returned home after his permitted time. When she reprimanded him, he reacted violently, pushed her down the stairs, and hit her arm. She has bruises that partially match her story.”
Every word was like a needle sticking into my chest. I looked at Ethan. His head was still bowed, but I saw his hands trembling.
“And my grandson’s version?” I asked, although from Spencer’s tone, I already knew that no one had believed him.
“The minor alleges that Ms. Brooks was the one who assaulted him first. He says that when he arrived home, she was already angry, that she waited for him in the living room, and without saying a word, hit him with a blunt object—according to him, a silver candlestick. The wound on his eyebrow required three stitches.”
“Did you check for the candlestick?”
Spencer shook his head, uncomfortable.
“Ms. Brooks says that such an object doesn’t exist, that the boy invented that story to justify his aggression. And here comes the problem, Commander. The house security cameras were broken that night. Just that night.”
I leaned back in the chair, processing the information. It wasn’t a coincidence. None of this was.
“How convenient, right?” I murmured.
Spencer looked at me with that expression I knew well—the look of someone who knows something is not right, but doesn’t have enough evidence to act.
“The cameras had been broken for three days,” he said. “According to the husband, they were going to call the technician this week.”
“What about the neighbors’ cameras? Street cameras?”
“We are in the process of reviewing them, but the house is in a private residential area. There are no public cameras nearby.”
Of course not. Chelsea had planned this perfectly. Every detail, every move. This wasn’t a fit of anger. It was premeditated.
I turned to Ethan, put my hand over his.
“Look at me, son.”
He slowly looked up. His eyes were full of fear and shame.
“Tell me everything from the beginning. And don’t hide anything from me.”
Ethan swallowed. He looked at Spencer, then at me again.
“I… I was late because I stayed studying at a friend’s house. I have a math test on Monday. I got home at 10:15 p.m. Not that late. But when I opened the door, Chelsea was there in the living room with the lights off. Only the kitchen light was on.”
His voice began to crack, but he continued.
“She said, ‘You’re late, you insolent brat.’ I told her I had texted my dad. She laughed and showed me my dad’s phone. She had it. My dad was asleep. Then she said, ‘Your father doesn’t care about you. Nobody cares about you. You’re an annoyance in this house.’”
Tears started rolling down his cheeks.
“I just wanted to go up to my room, Grandma. I swear to you. But she grabbed my arm and pulled me. I tried to break free, and then she… she took the candlestick from the table and hit me here.”
He pointed to his bandaged eyebrow.
“I felt everything spin. I fell to the floor. And while I was lying there bleeding, she gave herself the bruises by hitting herself against the wall. I saw her, Grandma. I saw her do it.”
“Where was your father?”
“Asleep in his room. She had given him some chamomile tea because he said he was stressed. When he heard the noise and came downstairs, everything was already set up. Chelsea was crying, saying I had attacked her. My dad didn’t even ask me. He just yelled that I was a disgrace and called the police.”
I closed my eyes for a moment. I took a deep breath. The rage I felt was like a fire contained in my chest.
“And the candlestick?”
“She hid it before my dad came down. I don’t know where she put it.”
I opened my eyes and looked directly at Spencer.
“Charles, you knew my work for twenty years. Did you ever see me let an innocent person pay for something they didn’t do?”
“Never, Commander.”
“My grandson is telling the truth. And I’m going to prove it.”
Spencer rubbed his face with both hands.
“Elellanena… legally, my hands are tied. It’s the word of a minor against that of two adults. The father supports the wife’s version. I don’t have physical evidence to contradict their story. The only thing I can do is let him go under your temporary custody while the investigation proceeds. But I need you to sign as the responsible party.”
“Do it. I’ll take responsibility.”
Spencer took out some papers and began filling them out. Meanwhile, I watched Ethan. That boy had grown so much in the last year. He was sixteen, almost a man. But at that moment, huddled in that chair with a broken eyebrow and swollen eyes, he was once again the seven-year-old boy who cried in my arms when his mother died.
“How long has this been going on, Ethan?” I asked in a low voice.
He looked down again.
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