Chapter 3 - Behind Closed Doors
Word count: ~1,500 words
Ten minutes later, four uniformed Phoenix police officers and two paramedics filled my living room.
The paramedics immediately took Jessica and Olivia into the master bedroom to treat their burns. I stood in the hallway with Officer Rodriguez, a stern, sharp-eyed veteran officer, while my mother sat on the sofa, weeping loudly into a tissue.
"It’s a misunderstanding, Officer!" Carmen wailed, putting on a masterful performance. "I’m an old woman with bad knees! My daughter-in-law was just helping me clean up after a small gathering! My son is stressed from work, he’s exaggerating everything!"
Officer Rodriguez didn't buy a single word. He had already seen the condition of Olivia’s red, blistered hands and the open wounds on Jessica’s wrist.
"Sir," Rodriguez said to me, opening his notepad. "Your daughter mentioned a locked drawer in your mother’s room. Can you elaborate?"
"I didn't know it existed until ten minutes ago," I said flatly. "My mother’s bedroom was originally our guest room. I want it searched."
"You can't search my room!" Carmen yelled, springing up from the sofa. "I have a right to privacy in this house!"
"This apartment is legally registered under my name and my wife's name," I replied coldly. "You are a guest. And your stay is officially over."
"Officer," I turned to Rodriguez. "I give you full permission to enter and inspect every room in this apartment."
Rodriguez nodded to his partner, Officer Lee. Together, we walked down the hallway into Carmen’s bedroom.
The room was neat, but smelled heavily of lavender perfume. In the walk-in closet sat a small, heavy steel filing cabinet with a keypad and a keyhole lock.
"Mrs. Ferris," Officer Lee called out toward the hallway. "Open this cabinet."
"I forgot the code!" Carmen shouted back, her voice high-pitched and hysterical. "I don't have the key! It's just my private personal medical records!"
Officer Lee didn't waste time. He reached into his tactical belt, pulled out a heavy entry tool, and jammed it into the seam of the lock. With a sharp groan of twisting metal, the lock snapped open, and the top drawer popped out.
What we found inside wasn't medical records.
Stacked neatly inside were Jessica’s original birth certificate, her passport, her social security card, and our marriage certificate. Beside the documents sat two working cell phones—one belonged to Jessica, which had been missing for six months, and the other was a burner phone.
At the back of the drawer sat three large bottles of prescription pain medication labeled under Jessica’s name—medications prescribed to her after her wrist surgery two years ago that she thought had been lost in the mail.
My chest burned with fury.
"She isolated her," I muttered, my voice shaking as the reality crashed down on me. "She took her documents, took her communication, and held her controlled in her own home."
Officer Rodriguez reached into the drawer with gloved hands, pulling out a small black leather notebook. He flipped it open.
Inside was a handwritten log kept by my mother:
March 12: Jessica tried to use the home phone. Cut the landline wire while Zayden was at work. Told Zayden it was a line glitch.
April 4: Jessica complained about her wrist. Subtracted her pain medication from the cabinet. Keep her weak.
June 19: Made Jessica clean the entire balcony in the sun. She fell asleep early. Told Zayden she is lazy.
Officer Rodriguez looked up at me, his face grim. "Mr. Ferris, this isn't just domestic dispute. This is systematic abuse, unlawful imprisonment, and grand theft of legal documents."
He turned on his heel, walked back into the living room, and unclipped his handcuffs.
"Carmen Ferris," Rodriguez announced cleanly. "You are under arrest for domestic violence, child endangerment, and unlawful imprisonment."
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"No! Zayden, do something!" Carmen shrieked as Officer Lee pinned her arms behind her back, snapping the metal cuffs onto her wrists. "I am your mother! I did this for you! She was taking advantage of you! She’s a weak, useless woman!"
"The only useless person in this house is you," I said, watching without a shred of pity as the officers escorted my screaming mother out the front door and down the hallway toward the elevator.
