Safe
Vanessa Kroll was arrested that evening on charges related to Poppy's injuries, with additional charges under the name Odalys Fenwick filed within the month once the Doyle case was formally reopened. Micah Doyle, eleven years old, sat with his father through two long interviews, and at the end of the second one, according to Payne, he asked only one question: whether the little girl from the other family was okay now.
She was.
It took Poppy longer to answer to her own name without flinching than it did for the legal proceedings to grind forward, but Cordelia moved into the guest room down the hall from her the week after the arrest and did not, for the first several months, sleep anywhere else. Bram sold the house within the year — Poppy never asked why, and he never explained, and some things a six-year-old is better off not carrying.
The trial, when it came, was mercifully short. The physical evidence from two states, two children, two sets of old and new injuries, left very little room for the story Vanessa's lawyer tried to build about an overprotective mother-in-law and an overactive imagination. The security footage Cordelia had managed to save after all — pulled, eventually, from a cloud backup neither Vanessa nor the app's free tier had accounted for — played twice for the jury. It was enough.
Cordelia kept the camera Bram had installed for her, mounted now above her own kitchen sink, though these days it only ever caught Poppy doing ordinary seven-year-old things — building blanket forts, arguing passionately about the correct number of marshmallows per cup of cocoa, narrating her stuffed rabbit's opinions on absolutely everything.
Some evenings Cordelia opened the app just to watch, out of habit more than worry now. Poppy would catch the little red light blink on, look straight into the lens, and grin — an unguarded, unrehearsed, entirely her own grin — and wave.
"Hi, Grandma," she'd say. "I see you."
And for the first time in a year, being watched meant only that someone loved her enough to look.