Chapter 6 - Detective Miller’s Interrogation
The heavy wooden door of the consultation room clicked shut, sealing out the sterile hum of the hospital hallway. Detective Arthur Miller, a seasoned investigator with the Silverwood Police Department, sat down heavily across the metal table. His trench coat was damp from the autumn drizzle outside, and his expression was as hard as granite.
Spread out before him on the table were items recovered from 412 Elmwood Lane: three amber glass prescription bottles with the labels scraped off, a box of professional-grade hypodermic needles, a notebook filled with erratic handwriting, and the terrifying drawing Mia had made earlier that morning.
“Let’s go over it one more time, Dr. Vance, Nurse Diane,” Miller said, leaning forward, resting his heavy forearms on the table. “Are you telling me this isn't an accidental ingestion?”
“Not by a long shot, Detective,” Dr. Vance replied firmly, adjusting his wire-rimmed glasses. “The toxicology report confirms high concentrations of a synthesized neuro-muscular blocking agent—a derivative of curare-like compounds typically restricted to advanced surgical or laboratory settings. It wasn't swallowed. It was repeatedly injected into the child’s deep muscle tissue over a prolonged period.”
Diane shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself. “That’s why her legs were locked and rigid, Arthur. The chemical paralyzed her lower limbs, keeping her immobile. And from what Mia hinted at before she fell asleep... she was being used as a test subject.”
Miller’s jaw tightened until a muscle jumped in his cheek. “And the mother? Eleanor Hayes? Where is she?”
“She didn't show up for her shift at the local botanical preservation lab downtown,” Diane said grimly. “Her supervisor said she hadn't been seen since yesterday evening, but her car was spotted heading north out of town toward the old logging trails.”
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Miller stood up abruptly, grabbing his leather gloves from the table. “Lock down this floor, put a police guard outside Mia’s room, and do not let anyone in or out. I’m heading out to the logging trail. If Eleanor Hayes thinks she can run from this, she’s got another thing coming.”
As the detective stormed out of the room, the terrifying reality settled over the medical staff. This wasn't just a case of severe child abuse; it was a calculated, deliberate medical experiment orchestrated by a mother hiding behind the facade of quiet domesticity. And time was running out to stop her before she vanished for good.
