Chapter 5
Rebecca did not answer her phone.
Neither did Lauren.
Police were now treating Sophie’s disappearance as an active child-endangerment case.
An alert went out with Lauren’s photo.
Traffic cameras were checked.
Hospitals were notified.
Airports were contacted.
I sat in my kitchen feeling completely useless.
Then a detective named Harris placed the pharmacy receipt on the table.
“Rebecca filled this prescription eleven days ago.”
“For herself?”
“That’s what the records show.”
“But Sophie was drinking it.”
“We don’t know exactly what was in the unlabeled bottle yet.”
“You think it could be the same drug.”
“Yes.”
I stared at him.
“What happens if a four-year-old gets too much?”
Harris didn’t answer immediately.
That terrified me.
“We need to find her.”
I stood.
“I know where Rebecca lives.”
“Officers already went.”
“And?”
“No one answered.”
“Then break the door down.”
“We’re getting a warrant.”
I wanted to scream.
Instead, I walked into Sophie’s bedroom.
Her stuffed rabbit lay beside her pillow.
I picked it up.
One ear was bent.
She had slept with that rabbit every night since she was two.
Lauren had left it behind.
That frightened me.
Sophie never willingly went anywhere overnight without Bunny.
I sat on the edge of her bed.
My eyes landed on her closet.
Something looked different.
One shoebox had been pushed sideways.
I pulled it down.
Inside were drawings.
Most were normal.
Rainbows.
Our house.
Stick figures.
A yellow dog even though we didn’t own one.
Then I found one that made my skin crawl.
Sophie had drawn three people.
Me.
Herself.
Lauren.
She had written DADDY above my head in shaky letters.
MOMMY above Lauren.
Between Sophie and Lauren was a black circle.
Under it, Sophie had drawn a bottle.
I called Harris.
He looked at the picture.
“Did she draw this herself?”
“Yes.”
Another picture showed Sophie lying in bed.
Lauren stood beside her.
A second woman stood behind Lauren.
She had long dark hair.
Rebecca.
I knew immediately.
Sophie had drawn Aunt Becca.
On the back, written in adult handwriting, were four words.
Good girls keep secrets.
I felt rage rise from somewhere I didn’t recognize.
“Harris.”
“I see it.”
“They were both doing this.”
“We’re going to find out.”
“No.”
I looked at him.
“You’re going to find my daughter.”
His phone rang.
He listened.
Then turned toward me.
“We have Lauren’s car.”
“Where?”
“Parking garage at the medical clinic.”
My blood froze.
The same clinic where Richard died.
I was in the passenger seat of Harris’s unmarked vehicle three minutes later.
He argued.
I didn’t care.
Eventually he agreed I could come as long as I stayed outside the police perimeter.
The clinic sat behind a line of trees.
Small.
Private.
Expensive.
By the time we arrived, officers surrounded the building.
Lauren’s car was on level two of the parking structure.
Empty.
Sophie’s pink jacket was inside.
So was Lauren’s purse.
But Lauren’s phone was gone.
We waited while officers entered the clinic.
Five minutes.
Ten.
Fifteen.
I thought I was going insane.
Then a paramedic came running out.
I stood.
A stretcher followed.
Small body.
Pink socks.
“Sophie!”
I ran.
An officer grabbed me.
“That’s my daughter!”
“Sir!”
“Sophie!”
The paramedics moved faster.
I saw her face.
Pale.
Eyes closed.
Oxygen mask.
My entire world narrowed to that stretcher.
I fought so hard against the officer that Harris had to grab my shoulders.
“Daniel! Let them work!”
“Is she alive?”
“Yes.”
“Is she alive?”
“She has a pulse.”
Those four words held me together.
I rode in the ambulance.
I held Sophie’s hand while a paramedic worked.
Her fingers were cold.
Too cold.
“Daddy’s here.”
She didn’t respond.
“Come on, baby.”
Nothing.
At the hospital, doctors rushed her away.
I was left standing behind two closed doors.
My mother arrived twenty minutes later.
Maria came too.
I couldn’t sit.
Couldn’t eat.
Couldn’t think.
Then Harris arrived.
“Where’s Lauren?”
He looked at me carefully.
“Gone.”
“What do you mean gone?”
“She wasn’t in the clinic.”
“Rebecca?”
“Also gone.”
“How did Sophie get there?”
“She was found in an unused examination room.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
My knees nearly buckled.
“They left her?”
“It appears so.”
“Why?”
“We don’t know.”
I stared at him.
“Did you find the medicine?”
“A syringe was on the floor.”
“Anything else?”
Harris hesitated.
“What?”
“A note.”
My heart pounded.
“For me?”
“For you.”
He handed me a photograph.
The note read:
You wanted her back.
Now you have her.
Ask your mother what she did in 2017.
I turned toward Mom.
Her face went white.
“What happened in 2017?”
She looked around the hospital waiting room.
“Not here.”
“Mom.”
“Daniel.”
“My daughter is unconscious because my wife is doing something connected to our families.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“What happened?”
She sat down slowly.
“In 2017, Richard came to me.”
“Why?”
“He was terrified.”
“Of Lauren?”
“No.”
Her answer surprised me.
“Of Rebecca.”
I stared.
Mom continued.
“Rebecca had discovered the financial documents from your father’s company. But unlike Lauren, she knew the truth.”
“What truth?”
“That Richard stole the money.”
“So why didn’t she tell Lauren?”
“Because she realized Lauren’s anger could be useful.”
The words chilled me.
“Useful how?”
“Rebecca had debts.”
“What kind?”
“Gambling. Loans. Things Richard had been secretly paying.”
I remembered Rebecca always showing up with expensive clothes.
New cars.
Trips.
We assumed she was successful.
“She convinced Lauren that your family owed theirs money,” Mom said.
“Even though she knew that wasn’t true?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To get close to you.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“You think Lauren married me for money?”
“I don’t know if it began that way.”
I thought about our wedding.
Lauren crying during our vows.
Sophie being born.
Seven years of marriage.
“You knew this?”
“Not all of it.”
“What happened in 2017?”
“Richard asked me to help him expose Rebecca.”
“How?”
“He had recordings.”
“What recordings?”
“Rebecca admitting she had lied to Lauren.”
My pulse jumped.
“Where are they?”
“I don’t know.”
“You said he gave you the blue file.”
“The recordings weren’t in it.”
“Why?”
“He was afraid Lauren would find them.”
“Then where?”
“He told me he hid them somewhere safe.”
“And then?”
My mother looked down.
“Three days later, Richard suffered his first unexplained medical episode.”
I froze.
“First?”
“He didn’t die from the first one.”
“How many were there?”
“Three.”
I remembered Lauren telling me her father’s health suddenly declined.
“He became confused. Weak. Slept constantly.”
Exactly like Sophie.
My stomach turned.
“What medication was he taking?”
“I don’t know.”
Harris was listening now.
He asked, “What clinic treated him?”
Mom looked at him.
“The clinic where Sophie was found.”
The waiting room doors opened.
A doctor approached.
I stood so fast the chair tipped backward.
“Mr. Carter?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Dr. Patel.”
“How is Sophie?”
“She’s stable.”
I covered my face.
For one second, I couldn’t speak.
“She’s breathing on her own. We found evidence of a sedating medication in her system, but we believe we treated her in time.”
“Can I see her?”
“Soon.”
“Is there permanent damage?”
“We don’t see signs of that right now, but we’ll continue monitoring her.”
My legs finally gave up.
I sat.
Tears came before I could stop them.
My mother put her arms around me.
For the first time since Maria called, I felt like Sophie might actually survive.
Then Dr. Patel said something else.
“There is one concern.”
My stomach tightened again.
“What?”
“Sophie has older bruising around her upper arms and thighs.”
I stared at him.
“Bruises?”
“They appear to be in different stages of healing.”
I thought of Sophie saying she woke up hurting.
“What caused them?”
“We can’t say yet.”
My hands clenched.
Then Dr. Patel lowered his voice.
“She also told one of our nurses something before she fell asleep again.”
“What did she say?”
The doctor looked toward Harris.
Then back at me.
“She said, ‘Aunt Becca told Mommy to make me look sick so Daddy would believe me.’”
I felt ice move through my chest.
“Believe what?”
Dr. Patel shook his head.
“She wouldn’t explain.”
Two hours later, Sophie woke.
I sat beside her.
When her eyes found me, tears immediately filled them.
“Daddy?”
I kissed her forehead.
“I’m here.”
“You came back.”
“I’ll always come back.”
Her tiny hand gripped mine.
“Mommy said you wouldn’t.”
“I’m here now.”
She started crying.
“I was good.”
“I know.”
“I drank it even when it hurt.”
My heart shattered.
“You never have to drink anything that scares you again.”
She looked at the hospital door.
Then whispered, “Is Aunt Becca here?”
“No.”
Sophie relaxed slightly.
I brushed hair from her face.
“Sweetheart, what did Aunt Becca want Mommy to make me believe?”
Sophie looked confused.
Then afraid.
I waited.
Finally, she whispered, “That you hurt me.”
I stopped breathing.
“She said Mommy had to make marks.”
My vision blurred.
“Marks?”
Sophie nodded.
“So everybody would think Daddy did it.”
I felt like I had been punched.
Lauren wasn’t only drugging our daughter.
She was manufacturing evidence.
Evidence against me.
Then Sophie said one more thing.
“But Mommy started crying.”
“When?”
“The last time.”
“What happened?”
“She told Aunt Becca she didn’t want to do it anymore.”
That changed everything.
“Then what did Aunt Becca say?”
May you like
Sophie’s fingers tightened around mine.
“She said if Mommy stopped, she would tell Daddy what Mommy did to Grandpa.”
