Chapter 4
By the time I reached Hannah’s apartment building, there were two police cars outside.
Ryan was standing near the curb arguing with an officer.
Patricia sat in the back of another patrol car.
My fear turned instantly into rage.
I opened my door before Dana could stop me.
“Emily.”
Ryan spun around.
His face looked exhausted.
“You took my daughter!”
I marched toward him.
“She is my daughter too.”
“You had no right to hide her.”
“I wasn’t hiding her. I was protecting her from the woman who left her outside in a storm.”
“Mom made a mistake.”
“A mistake?”
I pointed toward the police car.
“She came here this morning demanding Lily.”
Ryan lowered his voice.
“Because you wouldn’t answer me.”
“That doesn’t give either of you permission to terrorize my sister.”
The officer stepped between us.
“Mrs. Carter, please go upstairs. Your daughter is safe.”
That was the only sentence I cared about.
I ran inside.
Hannah opened her apartment door before I knocked.
Lily was in her arms.
“Mommy!”
I hugged her so tightly Hannah had to remind me to breathe.
Lily touched my cheek.
“You came back.”
Those three words destroyed me.
“I will always come back.”
She looked toward the hallway.
“Daddy mad?”
“No, sweetheart.”
I kissed her forehead.
“You don’t worry about Daddy. Mommy handles grown-up problems.”
Hannah shut the door.
“She kept asking if Patricia was going to put her outside again.”
My stomach twisted.
“I should have known.”
“Known what?”
“That Patricia hated me enough to hurt Lily.”
Hannah shook her head.
“Don’t do that to yourself.”
Before I could answer, Dana entered.
She had stayed downstairs speaking with police.
“Patricia is being cited for what happened here and the officers are documenting everything.”
“Why isn’t she arrested?”
“Because she didn’t get inside. But this helps us.”
I hated hearing that.
This helps us.
As though my daughter’s terror was evidence in some game.
Dana saw my expression.
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
My voice cracked.
“I don’t want this to help me. I want none of it to have happened.”
She nodded.
“You’re right.”
That quiet answer stopped my anger.
She sat down.
“I filed an emergency motion electronically while we drove here.”
I looked at her.
“For custody?”
“For temporary possession and a protective restriction preventing Patricia from removing Lily from your care or school.”
“Can a judge approve that today?”
“If we’re lucky.”
My phone buzzed.
Ryan.
Again.
I almost threw it.
Dana held out her hand.
“May I?”
I gave her the phone.
Ryan’s message read:
If you keep doing this, you’re going to force me to tell the court everything.
Dana typed nothing.
She showed it to me.
“Save every message.”
“What does he mean by everything?”
She studied me.
“Is there anything he could use?”
“No.”
Then I remembered.
One thing.
Dana saw my face.
“What?”
“Two years ago, after Lily was born, I had a panic attack.”
She waited.
“It happened at work. I couldn’t breathe. I thought I was having a heart attack.”
“Were you diagnosed with anything?”
“Anxiety. My doctor gave me medication for three months. I stopped taking it when things improved.”
“Any hospitalization?”
“No.”
“Any suicidal thoughts?”
“No.”
“Any danger to Lily?”
“Never.”
Dana nodded.
“Then it’s medical history, not a custody disqualifier.”
“But Ryan knows about it.”
“Of course he does. And he may try to weaponize it.”
My phone rang again.
This time it was my mother.
I stared at the screen.
She lived in Arizona.
Ryan must have called her.
I answered.
“Mom?”
“Emily, what is happening?”
I closed my eyes.
“Ryan filed for divorce.”
Silence.
Then, “He told me.”
Of course.
“What else did he tell you?”
“That you took Lily and wouldn’t let him see her.”
“Did he tell you Lily was left outside?”
Another silence.
“No.”
“Did he tell you he’s been sleeping with another woman?”
“What?”
There it was.
The shock I needed.
Ryan hadn’t told her everything.
I explained.
My mother began crying.
Then she said something strange.
“Emily, Patricia called me last month.”
I stopped.
“What?”
“She asked questions about your anxiety after Lily was born.”
My heart pounded.
“What kind of questions?”
“She asked whether you had ever talked about leaving Ryan. Whether you drank when you were stressed. Whether you ever forgot to feed Lily.”
I stared at Dana.
“What did you tell her?”
“I told her you were a tired new mother, not a criminal.”
“Why didn’t you tell me she called?”
“I thought she was being nosy.”
Dana mouthed, Ask when.
“When exactly?”
“Maybe four weeks ago.”
The custody plan had been underway.
I thanked Mom and ended the call.
Dana was already writing.
“We need a timeline.”
Claire, who had come upstairs after talking to police, spoke from the doorway.
“I can help with that.”
Hannah looked at her suspiciously.
“You’re the girlfriend?”
Claire winced.
“Yes.”
Hannah’s expression sharpened.
“You have some nerve coming here.”
“She’s helping,” I said.
Hannah looked at me.
“She slept with your husband.”
“I know.”
“And she’s helping.”
“Yes.”
“This is officially the strangest Tuesday I’ve ever had.”
Claire almost smiled.
Then her face became serious.
“I remembered something.”
She sat at the kitchen table.
“About two months ago, Patricia started asking me questions about Lily.”
“What questions?”
“What foods she liked. Her shoe size. Her bedtime routine.”
My stomach tightened.
“Why would you know those things?”
“Ryan talked about her constantly.”
That hurt in a different way.
Ryan loved Lily.
At least I believed he did.
How could a man who talked proudly about his daughter plan to rip her mother away?
Claire continued.
“Patricia asked if I was comfortable raising a young child.”
I stared at her.
“You thought you were going to raise Lily?”
“Eventually.”
She looked ashamed.
“Ryan said if we got serious after the divorce, we’d have shared custody.”
I forced myself to stay calm.
“And what did Patricia say?”
“She said shared custody would never work.”
Dana leaned forward.
“Exact words?”
Claire thought.
“She said, ‘Once Emily is out, we need Lily somewhere stable until Ryan starts his new life.’”
My skin crawled.
“Somewhere stable.”
“Patricia’s house,” Dana said.
Claire nodded.
“She had already decorated a bedroom.”
I stopped breathing.
“What?”
“I saw pictures.”
She pulled out her phone.
There it was.
A little girl’s bedroom.
Pink walls.
White bed.
Stuffed animals.
A wooden sign above the headboard.
LILY.
My daughter’s name.
Patricia had built my child a bedroom three hours away while pretending everything was normal.
My hands shook.
“What is wrong with that woman?”
Nobody answered.
Then Hannah said, “Emily.”
Her voice was cautious.
“There’s something I never told you.”
I turned.
“What?”
She looked uncomfortable.
“Patricia came here once when you were pregnant.”
I stared at her.
“When?”
“About a month before Lily was born.”
“What did she want?”
“She was angry.”
“About what?”
“You and Ryan choosing Lily’s name.”
I frowned.
We had chosen Lily after my grandmother.
Hannah continued.
“She said Ryan had promised to name his first daughter Caroline.”
“Who is Caroline?”
Hannah looked at me like she had expected me to know.
“Patricia’s daughter.”
I stared at her.
“Patricia doesn’t have a daughter.”
Hannah went pale.
“Emily.”
“What?”
“She did.”
The room became quiet.
“What are you talking about?”
“Ryan had a sister.”
I looked around the room.
Claire looked shocked too.
Dana’s pen stopped moving.
Hannah swallowed.
“Her name was Caroline.”
I felt something cold move through me.
“What happened to her?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why have I never heard of her?”
“Because Patricia told me never to mention her again.”
That made no sense.
Nothing made sense.
Then my phone buzzed.
An email.
No sender name.
Just an unfamiliar address.
The subject line was one word.
CAROLINE.
I opened it.
There was no message.
Only a photograph.
Patricia was much younger in it.
She was holding a little blonde girl.
The child looked about four.
Standing beside them was a teenage boy.
Ryan.
May you like
And underneath the photograph, someone had typed:
Ask your husband what happened to his sister before you let him take Lily anywhere.
