Chapter 2 - I do not interrogate my daughter
My first instinct was to demand answers from everyone.
Claire.
Mark.
Thomas.
Even Lily.
That last one frightened me enough to stop.
Lily stood beside the purple box staring at a drawing of Amelia.
She was four.
She had just watched adults turn her private fears into evidence.
I crouched.
“Lily.”
She looked at me.
“Do you want Grandma?”
My mother, Helen Whitmore, lived thirty minutes away.
Lily nodded immediately.
“Okay.”
Claire said:
“You’re removing her from her home because you’re angry at me?”
“No.”
“This is her home.”
“I’m getting her away from this conversation.”
I picked Lily up.
Then looked at Thomas.
“Call my mother.”
“Already did.”
Of course.
Thomas had spent nine years anticipating what I should have thought of myself.
“Police?”
He paused.
“We need to discuss that.”
Claire almost relaxed.
I saw it.
I called them myself.
Not my attorney first.
Not a prosecutor I knew.
I reported:
My four-year-old daughter appeared to have been subjected to repeated confinement and degrading punishment by my fiancée.
No immediate medical emergency known.
Possible evidence in home security system and private room.
No allegation of sexual abuse.
No claim of severe physical injury.
I was learning already to say only what I knew.
Claire stared at me.
“You called police on me?”
“You locked my daughter in a laundry room.”
“It wasn’t locked.”
Thomas said:
“Sometimes it was.”
Claire looked at him.
There.
Another piece.
I did not ask how yet.
Helen arrived before officers because she drove like traffic laws were optional when grandchildren were involved.
She entered the foyer.
Saw Lily.
Opened both arms.
“My darling.”
Lily ran.
Helen looked at the maid uniform under the torn apron.
Her face changed.
“What is she wearing?”
“Take her home.”
Helen stared at me.
“Ethan.”
“Please.”
That word worked.
She took Lily.
Before leaving, I knelt.
“Daddy’s staying here to talk to some grown-ups.”
Lily’s face tightened.
“You come?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“I don’t know exactly. But I will come.”
She stared.
“Claire say—”
I stopped myself from asking.
“You don’t have to tell me now.”
That surprised her.
“Grandma’s going to take care of you. You can tell me anything when you want.”
She nodded.
Then:
“Rabbit.”
The white stuffed rabbit still lay downstairs.
Thomas retrieved it.
Lily hugged it.
“What name?” Helen asked.
Lily whispered:
“Snow Two.”
Fine.
Then she left.
Only after the door closed did I let myself look at Claire again.
Police arrived seven minutes later.
May you like
The investigation began.
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