Chapter 4 - The Silver USB Drive
The police officers conducted a thorough report on the scene. Because Rowan had illegally obtained HIPAA-protected medical documents and hired a private investigator to track my movements, the officers confiscated both binders, Rowan's phone, and her gray tote bag as evidence for a formal stalking and privacy violation investigation.
By 8:00 PM, Cormac and I were back in our warm, quiet living room. Callie had helped me wash the sticky blue frosting out of my hair, and I was sitting on the sofa wrapped in a soft wool blanket, holding a warm cup of chamomile tea.
Sawyer was upstairs in our guest room, fast asleep. After the incident at the house, my father had refused to let Rowan take Sawyer home, insisting the boy stay with Cormac and me for the night until child protective services could review the living situation.
Cormac sat down beside me, holding the small silver USB drive I had pulled from Rowan's tote bag earlier that afternoon.
"Our lawyer, Mark, just called," Cormac said gently, plugging the drive into his laptop. "He says the screenshots from Sawyer's video are enough to secure an immediate temporary restraining order against both Rowan and your mother."
"What's on the drive?" I asked softly, leaning my head against his shoulder.
Cormac opened the file directory. The drive was organized into three main folders: OHSU LEAKS, FINANCIAL TRACKING, and AUDIO FILES.
He clicked on the audio folder. There were dozens of recorded phone calls spanning the last six months.
Cormac clicked the most recent recording, dated just four days ago.
My mother's voice filled the living room through the laptop speakers, sharp and crystal clear:
"Once the baby is born, we file the emergency ex-parte motion in Clackamas County. Dr. Miller's leaked report will show Madison had a prescription adjustment for anxiety three years ago. We claim postpartum instability. With your testimony about her 'unstable behavior' at the gender reveal, the judge will grant temporary custody to you, Rowan. Then we move the baby into my house."
Rowan’s voice responded, sounding hesitant:
"What about Cormac? He has money, Mom. He'll fight back."
My mother laughed—a cold, hollow sound that sent chills down my spine.
"Cormac’s firm depends on state contracts. A public custody battle involving allegations of spousal neglect will ruin his reputation. He’ll settle out of court to protect his career. They always settle."
I covered my mouth with both hands, tears finally streaming down my face. They hadn't just planned to take my baby; they had meticulously planned to destroy my husband's life, my mental health, and my family unit from the ground up.
"They underestimated us, Maddie," Cormac whispered, turning off the recording and pulling me tight into his arms. "They thought you were still that scared twelve-year-old girl who believed she ruined everything."
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"I used to believe them, Cormac," I sobbed into his chest. "Every time something went wrong, I thought it was my fault."
"It was never your fault," Cormac said fiercely, kissing the top of my head. "They broke you down so you wouldn't see what they were doing. But it stops tonight. I promise you, they will never come near you or our child again."
