Chapter 6
The police searched for Daniel all night.
They found his phone beneath the passenger seat.
His wallet in the center console.
Blood on the steering wheel and driver’s door.
Enough to concern them.
Not enough to prove someone had died.
I told myself that should have mattered.
Daniel had betrayed me.
He had lied.
He had failed Lily in ways I didn’t know if I could forgive.
But he was still my husband.
Still Lily’s father.
And I didn’t want him dead.
At 2:11 a.m., Detective Mason called.
“The blood type matches Daniel’s medical records.”
I closed my eyes.
“How much?”
“We’re waiting on a full forensic assessment.”
“Was there a weapon?”
“No.”
“Security cameras?”
“We’re checking.”
“Do you think someone took him?”
“I don’t know.”
I hated those words.
I don’t know.
They had become the soundtrack of my life.
The next morning, Margaret was arrested.
Not for Sarah.
Not for Daniel.
For Lily.
The lab had confirmed that the tablets collected from my kitchen were diphenhydramine at an adult strength.
Combined with what was already in Lily’s system, investigators believed Margaret had been repeatedly giving my daughter unsafe amounts to make her sleep.
When police took Margaret from the station to county booking, reporters were waiting.
Someone had leaked the story.
Her image spread everywhere.
LOCAL GRANDMOTHER ACCUSED OF DRUGGING FIVE-YEAR-OLD.
HIDDEN BASEMENT FOUND IN FAMILY HOME.
MISSING-WOMAN COLD CASE REOPENED.
I turned off the television.
Claire sat beside me.
“You need to eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You haven’t eaten since yesterday.”
“I said I’m not hungry.”
She didn’t argue.
She just put toast beside me.
Lily was asleep upstairs.
For the first time in months, I wondered whether her sleep was natural.
That thought made me cry.
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
I stared at it.
Then answered.
“Hello?”
A woman said, “Don’t hang up.”
I froze.
“Who is this?”
“You’ve been looking for me.”
Every hair on my arms lifted.
“Lily?”
Silence.
Then a breath.
“My name is Lily Miller.”
I stood.
Claire looked at me.
I raised a finger.
“Where are you?”
“Somewhere safe.”
“Did you visit my daughter?”
“Yes.”
My knees weakened.
“Why?”
“Because Margaret was doing to her what she did to my mother.”
The room narrowed around me.
“You’re Sarah’s daughter?”
“Yes.”
“Police said you died.”
“I didn’t.”
“Where have you been for twenty-seven years?”
“Hidden.”
“By who?”
“My father.”
“Jason?”
“Yes.”
Rachel’s story flashed through my mind.
Jason Miller had supposedly moved away after Sarah disappeared.
“Is he alive?”
“He died six months ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. He kept me safe.”
“From Margaret?”
“And Robert.”
“Robert died twenty years ago.”
“That didn’t mean Margaret stopped.”
My heart pounded.
“How did you get into our house?”
“There’s another entrance.”
“What?”
“Through the old utility tunnel behind the garage.”
I felt sick.
“Why didn’t you call police?”
“Because the last time my mother trusted the police, they returned her to her parents.”
I sat down.
“Where is Sarah?”
Silence.
“Please.”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“My father told me she survived that night.”
“That night. August fourteenth?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“He said Sarah got me out of the basement. They were supposed to run together.”
“But?”
“Margaret caught her.”
My grip tightened around the phone.
“Then what?”
“Dad said Daniel helped Sarah escape.”
That shocked me.
“Daniel?”
“He was a little boy.”
“Daniel told me he saw Sarah get into a car.”
“Because she did.”
“With you?”
“No.”
My heart stopped.
“Then who had you?”
“My father.”
I tried to piece it together.
“Sarah gave you to Jason first?”
“Yes. She told him to drive and not come back.”
“And Sarah?”
“She said she would follow.”
“But she didn’t.”
“No.”
“Why didn’t Jason go to police?”
“He did.”
“What happened?”
“Robert reported him for kidnapping.”
I covered my mouth.
“Jason was your father.”
“His name wasn’t on my birth certificate. Margaret made sure of that.”
Everything suddenly made a terrible kind of sense.
A frightened teenage father.
A respected accountant accusing him of abducting an infant.
A wealthy family controlling the story.
“What happened to Jason?”
“He ran.”
“With you.”
“Yes.”
“For twenty-seven years?”
“We changed names more than once.”
“Why come back now?”
Her voice shook for the first time.
“Because Dad left me a box.”
“What was inside?”
“Sarah’s letters. Records. Photographs. Copies of things Robert had done.”
“The stolen money?”
“Yes. And more.”
“What more?”
“Robert was blackmailing people.”
I glanced at Claire.
She could hear only my side, but she knew it was important.
“Who?”
“Business owners. Church members. A judge.”
“A judge?”
“That’s why Sarah couldn’t get help.”
“Why did you visit Margaret instead of going straight to police?”
“I wanted her to tell me what she did to my mother.”
My stomach twisted.
“Did she?”
“She told me Sarah deserved what happened.”
I closed my eyes.
“Was Lily there?”
“I didn’t know she would be.”
“Did Margaret drug her because she saw you?”
“Yes.”
Rage rose through me.
“She was trying to erase her memory.”
“That’s what I think.”
“You should have taken her with you.”
“I almost did.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because I knew you were coming home.”
I froze.
“What?”
“I sent the email.”
The room seemed to stop.
“You made me leave work?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I needed you to see it yourself.”
I stood again.
“You used my daughter as bait.”
“No.”
“You knew Margaret was drugging her!”
“I didn’t know she would do it again that day.”
“But you left my five-year-old there!”
“I was watching from the tunnel entrance. When Margaret pinned her down, I was about to come out. Then your car pulled in.”
I was shaking.
“You should have called the police.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?”
“I needed proof.”
“My child is not proof!”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
I almost hung up.
Then remembered Daniel.
“Do you know where my husband is?”
Silence.
“Lily.”
“I didn’t hurt him.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“I saw him yesterday.”
“Where?”
“Union Station.”
My pulse jumped.
“What happened?”
“He asked me to meet him.”
“Why?”
“He said he wanted to give me something.”
“What?”
“A key.”
“To what?”
“A safe-deposit box.”
“Where is Daniel now?”
“I don’t know.”
“There was blood in his car.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“Because I was there.”
I stopped breathing.
“What happened?”
“He was attacked.”
“By who?”
“I couldn’t see his face.”
“Is Daniel alive?”
“He was when they took him.”
“They?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“You saw someone kidnap my husband and didn’t call police?”
“I called anonymously.”
“Where did they take him?”
“I followed for twelve miles, then lost them.”
“Tell me where.”
“I will.”
“Now.”
“There’s something else first.”
“No more games.”
“Emily, the person who attacked Daniel knew about the safe-deposit box.”
My blood went cold.
“So?”
“Only four people knew it existed.”
“Who?”
“My father.”
“He’s dead.”
“Sarah.”
“She’s missing.”
“Daniel.”
“And?”
Lily was silent.
“Who?”
She whispered, “Margaret.”
I almost laughed from disbelief.
“She was in police custody.”
“Then someone else has been talking to her.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
I heard something in the background.
A door.
Lily’s breathing changed.
“I have to go.”
“Wait.”
“I’ll contact you.”
“No!”
The line went dead.
I immediately called Mason.
I told him everything.
He traced the number.
Prepaid phone.
Unregistered.
But Lily had given me one useful detail.
The safe-deposit box.
Mason began searching financial institutions tied to Robert Hayes.
Two hours later, he found one.
A private bank downtown.
The box had been opened that morning.
By an authorized co-holder.
Daniel Hayes.
Security footage showed Daniel entering at 7:34 a.m.
Alive.
Uninjured.
He left seven minutes later carrying a large brown envelope.
Then another camera caught something police had not expected.
A woman followed him out.
Older.
Thin.
Wearing a baseball cap.
Mason showed me the frozen image.
“Do you recognize her?”
I stared at the woman.
At first, no.
Then I looked at the eyes.
The shape of her face.
My chest tightened.
I had seen her before.
In an old photograph.
Age had changed everything except the eyes.
“Oh my God.”
Mason leaned closer.
“What?”
May you like
I whispered the name.
“Sarah.”
