Instead, she had been left at a hotel shuttle stop with a backpack and a promise that “someone would come back for her after check-in issues were resolved.”
That “someone” never came.
Detective Harris stood beside me at the hospital as I watched Olivia sleep.
“Do you want to press charges?” he asked carefully.
I didn’t answer right away. I looked at her small hand, the IV tape slightly crooked from when she had tried to pull it off earlier.
“She could’ve died,” I said quietly.
“That’s not an answer,” he replied.
“It is,” I said.
The first call from Daniel finally came at 11:47 a.m.
He sounded irritated, not worried.
“Mom, I’m on a cruise. What is so urgent that you’re ruining this for us?”
I stepped into the hallway.
“Your daughter is in the ER,” I said.
A pause.
Then a laugh. “Olivia? She’s fine. Probably just a cold. She exaggerates everything.”
My grip tightened around the phone.
“104-degree fever,” I said. “Severe dehydration. She was found alone.”
Silence.
Then Rachel’s voice cut in, sharp and defensive. “We arranged a sitter. Something must have gone wrong.”
“What sitter?” I asked.
Another pause. Longer this time.
No answer.
Detective Harris motioned for the phone. I handed it over.
“This is Detective Harris with Riverside County,” he said. “We are opening an investigation for child endangerment.”
The line went dead.
