Chapter 2
The patrol car had barely disappeared when another officer walked toward me.
He wasn't looking at Sophie.
He was looking at my hands.
“Mr. Carter, we need to talk about what happened before we arrived.”
My stomach dropped.
Rachel had already told them I hit her.
I didn’t lie.
“I slapped her. Then I dragged her out of the house.”
The officer studied me.
“Why?”
“Because she attacked my daughter.”
“That doesn't automatically make everything you did lawful.”
“I know.”
Sophie tightened her arms around my neck.
“Daddy was saving me.”
The officer’s expression softened.
But only slightly.
A woman wearing a dark jacket stepped through the doorway behind him.
“Daniel Carter?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Detective Marissa Cole. I handle child-abuse investigations.”
Those words made the room feel smaller.
Child abuse.
Not discipline.
Not tantrums.
Not misunderstandings.
Abuse.
Detective Cole crouched several feet away from Sophie.
She didn’t touch her.
“Hi, Sophie. My name is Marissa. You don’t have to tell me anything right now.”
Sophie stared at her.
Then she whispered, “Is Rachel coming back?”
“Not tonight.”
Sophie looked at me.
“Promise?”
I swallowed.
“I promise.”
Detective Cole asked me to take Sophie upstairs and pack a small overnight bag.
“We need her examined.”
My heart sank.
“Examined for what?”
“Anything that may need treatment or documentation.”
I didn’t want to understand.
But I did.
Upstairs, Sophie refused to let go of my shirt.
I packed pajamas with one hand.
Her stuffed rabbit was under the bed.
When I reached for it, Sophie suddenly screamed.
“No!”
I froze.
“What?”
She pointed toward the closet.
“Don’t open it.”
My blood turned cold.
“Why?”
She started trembling.
“That’s the bad place.”
I looked at Detective Cole, who had followed us upstairs.
She stopped in the doorway.
“What does ‘bad place’ mean, Sophie?”
Sophie covered her mouth.
Rachel had trained her not to answer.
I could see it.
Detective Cole didn’t push.
She simply said, “Daniel, step away from the closet.”
Another officer came upstairs.
He photographed the door before opening it.
Inside were coats.
Shoes.
Storage boxes.
Nothing unusual.
Then the officer moved one of Rachel’s suitcases.
Behind it was a child-sized blanket.
A plastic cup.
And a small night-light.
My knees weakened.
“What is that?”
Sophie began crying.
“She made me sleep there.”
I turned toward her.
“What?”
“When I was bad.”
“How long?”
She held up five fingers.
“Five minutes?”
She shook her head.
“Five nights.”
I grabbed the dresser to keep myself standing.
Detective Cole’s face changed.
“Daniel, don’t ask her anything else about it.”
“How did I not know?”
No one answered.
At the hospital, a pediatric nurse examined Sophie’s scalp.
There were bruises on her upper arms.
Two older marks near her shoulder.
A faint line across her back.
The doctor asked how she got each one.
Sophie stayed silent.
Until the doctor mentioned her shoulder.
“Rachel squeezed me.”
My throat closed.
The doctor looked at me.
“How often is Daniel away from home?”
I answered automatically.
“Usually ten hours during weekdays.”
Sophie corrected me.
“Sometimes twelve.”
I stared at her.
She knew.
She had counted the hours.
When the doctor left, Sophie climbed into my lap.
“Daddy?”
“Yes?”
“Are you mad?”
“At you? Never.”
“Rachel said you’d be mad if I told.”
My eyes burned.
“What else did Rachel say?”
Sophie looked toward the door.
“She said you chose her.”
I felt something inside me break.
“I chose you first. I should have made sure you knew that every single day.”
She leaned against me.
A minute later, Detective Cole entered holding an evidence bag.
Inside was a small silver key.
“We found this taped under Sophie’s bed.”
I frowned.
“I’ve never seen it.”
Sophie did.
Her face went white.
“That’s Rachel’s secret key.”
“What does it open?”
Sophie whispered the answer.
“Mommy’s box.”
I stopped breathing.
May you like
Sophie’s biological mother, Emily, had been dead for three years.
And the only box of Emily’s belongings I knew about had disappeared six months ago.
