Coming Home | Scarlett Johansson's Daughter |

LATE CALLS

NEW YORK 2024 - SCARLETT'S APARTMENT - EARLY SATURDAY

It was late, and the penthouse was steeped in silence, broken only by the soft hum of the baby monitor as Scarlett quietly checked on Cosmo. The toddler was fast asleep, his chest rising and falling in the peaceful rhythm of deep slumber. Scarlett's nerves had been frayed all evening, an unsettling feeling gnawing at her, though she couldn't quite place why. She tucked the blanket around Cosmo a little tighter, brushing a strand of hair from her face as she sighed and turned to leave the room.

Just as she stepped into the hallway, her phone rang, the sound piercing the stillness of the night. Scarlett's heart skipped a beat as she glanced at the screen, seeing an unknown number. Normally, she would have ignored it, but something compelled her to answer.

"Hello?" she whispered, trying not to wake anyone.

"Ms. Johansson?" The voice on the other end was unfamiliar, calm but serious. "This is Officer Ryan with the NYPD. I'm calling from the hospital. Your daughter Violet is here—"

Scarlett's blood ran cold. "What? The hospital? Why? What happened?"

Her voice trembled with rising panic, her mind racing as she struggled to comprehend the words. Violet was supposed to be in her room, safe, sleeping.

"She's okay," the officer quickly reassured her. "There was an incident at a party. No major injuries, but we need you to come down and—"

Scarlett was already moving, her body on autopilot as the dread settled deep in her chest. The officer's words faded into background noise as she rushed to Violet's bedroom, hoping—praying—that this was all a mistake. Maybe Violet was still here, asleep in her bed, and this was just a misunderstanding.

But when she pushed open the door to Violet's room, the sight of the empty bed hit her like a punch to the gut. The covers were neatly pulled back, untouched. Her heart sank.

"She's gone," Scarlett whispered, confirming the awful truth to herself. The officer's voice on the phone grew clearer again.

"Ms. Johansson? Are you still there? We need you to come down to the hospital. Do you need us to contact Mr. Reynolds as well?"

"I'll be right there," Scarlett managed to choke out, her voice shaking as she hung up. She stood frozen for a moment, the phone clutched tightly in her hand. The weight of what had just happened crashed down on her like a tidal wave. Violet had snuck out—her 13-year-old daughter had gone to a party and was now at the hospital.

Her hands were shaking as she hurried back down the hallway, passing her room with Colin in it. For a split second, she considered waking him up, but something inside her stopped her. She could handle this. She had to. Someone had to stay with Cosmo either way.

Scarlett grabbed her coat and keys, her mind racing with a thousand different thoughts. She was angry, scared, and worried all at once. How did this happen? How had Violet slipped out without her noticing?

As she hurried out of the penthouse and into the cold night air, Scarlett's thoughts spun wildly. What had driven Violet to this? Was it the constant pressure she was under? The overwhelming attention from their public lives? Or was this just a typical teenage rebellion?

She swallowed hard, her breath visible in the frigid night as she got in her jeep. There would be time for questions later, but right now, all she could think about was getting to her daughter. She needed to see Violet, to make sure she was okay.

And after that, they were going to have a serious talk.

Minutes later, Scarlett rushed through the sliding glass doors of the hospital, the bright fluorescent lights harsh against the cold, dark night outside. Her breath caught as she scanned the emergency waiting room, the stark white tiles and beige walls doing nothing to calm her nerves. The sterile, antiseptic smell was suffocating, but she pushed through it, her eyes darting from face to face.