Chapter 4
I was released at 11:27 PM.
The world outside the police station had already changed.
A news van was parked across the street.
Cameraman ready.
Reporter checking her makeup.
They spotted me the second I walked through the door.
“Mr. Cole! Ethan Cole! Is it true you abducted seven-year-old Lily Carter? What did you do with her? Why did you—”
Sarah’s lawyer stepped between us.
“No comment. My client has been fully exonerated by police. Further questions will be answered at an appropriate time.”
She herded us into Sarah’s SUV.
The cameraman ran alongside, filming through the windows.
Sarah peeled out.
We didn’t speak until we were three blocks away.
“He’s good,” I said. “I’ll give him that.”
Sarah was staring straight ahead.
“He’s been practicing for years. Every court date. Every evaluation. Every social worker visit. He knows exactly what face to wear. What words to say. How to make everyone feel exactly what he wants them to feel.”
“Where are we going?”
“To the hospital. Lily’s been asking for you. The doctors said it’s okay as long as we don’t stay long.”
She glanced over at me.
“You should know—she doesn’t know about the news. We haven’t let her watch TV. She thinks you’re a hero.”
“I am not a hero.”
“You are to her. She told the psychologist that when you came down into that ditch, she knew everything would be okay. She said you had ‘good eyes.’”
My throat tightened.
I didn’t trust myself to speak.
We pulled into the hospital parking lot.
The pediatric wing was on the third floor.
Quiet.
Dimly lit.
Most of the children were asleep.
Lily’s room was at the end of the hall.
The door was slightly ajar.
Through the crack, I could see her.
Sitting up in bed.
Color had returned to her cheeks.
Her hand was resting on a large lump beneath the covers beside her.
Max.
The dog was stretched out on the extra mattress the nurses had dragged in.
His leg was in a bright blue cast.
Bandages wrapped around his chest.
But his tail thumped once when he heard us stop outside.
Lily looked up.
Her face lit up.
“You came!”
I walked in.
“Hey, kiddo.”
She held out her arms.
I hesitated, then sat on the edge of the bed and hugged her gently.
She smelled like strawberry shampoo and antiseptic.
“Max was waiting for you,” she said. “He wouldn’t go to sleep until you got here.”
I scratched the dog behind the ears.
“Good job, buddy.”
Max huffed and closed his eyes.
Sarah leaned against the doorframe, watching us.
There was a sad smile on her face.
“Lily,” she said softly. “The nice detective is going to come talk to you again tomorrow. Do you think you can tell her everything that happened with Daddy?”
Lily’s smile vanished.
She pulled her knees to her chest.
“He said if I tell, he’ll hurt Max again.”
Her voice was barely a whisper.
“He said next time, he won’t miss.”
Sarah crossed the room and sat beside her daughter.
“He can’t hurt you anymore, baby. I promise.”
Lily looked up at her.
With eyes far too old for seven.
“That’s what you said last time. And then he took me anyway.”
The words hung in the air.
Cruel.
True.
Sarah’s face crumpled.
She tried to hide it, but Lily saw.
The little girl reached out and touched her mother’s cheek.
“It’s okay, Mommy. I know you tried.”
I stood up and walked to the window.
Outside, Nashville glowed in the distance.
A city of music and lights.
And somewhere out there, Jake Carter was sleeping in his own bed.
Probably watching himself on the news.
Planning his next move.
“Lily,” I said, turning back to her.
She looked at me.
“Your dad is scared of one thing. Do you know what that is?”
She shook her head.
“The truth. He’s spent a long time making sure no one knows what really happens when you’re with him. But today, you and Max and me—we all saw. And when enough people know the truth? He can’t hide anymore.”
“Will he go to jail?”
“I’m going to do everything I can to make sure he does.”
She studied my face for a long moment.
Then she nodded.
“Okay. I’ll tell the detective. Everything.”
She paused.
“Can you be there? When I talk?”
“Absolutely.”
Sarah mouthed thank you across the room.
We stayed another twenty minutes.
Lily told me about school.
Her best friend, Mia.
How Max was supposed to be a Christmas present two years ago, but Jake had tried to take him back to the breeder because “dogs are expensive.”
Sarah had worked three extra jobs for six months to buy him outright.
“Max is mine,” Lily said firmly. “Legally. I have papers.”
I believed her.
When we left, she was already asleep.
Max’s head was on her pillow.
One paw draped protectively over her arm.
In the parking lot, Sarah’s phone buzzed.
She checked it.
And went pale.
“What is it?”
“It’s from Jake.”
She held up the screen.
A text message.
I read it over her shoulder.
YOU THINK YOU WON? CHECK YOUR INSTAGRAM.
Sarah’s hands were shaking so badly she could barely open the app.
Her profile was public.
The most recent post had been uploaded ten minutes ago.
It wasn’t from her.
A photo of me.
Walking into the police station in cuffs.
The caption:
To everyone asking—yes, this is the man who took my daughter. The police released him. I don’t know how. I don’t know why. But I will spend every dollar I have, every breath I take, to make sure he never hurts another child again. #BringLilyHome #JusticeForLily
Below it, thousands of comments were pouring in every second.
- KILL HIM
- Someone needs to find this monster
- Why isn’t he in jail???
- I know where he works. Someone should pay him a visit.
Sarah dropped the phone.
“He hacked my account,” she whispered. “Everyone who follows me—my friends, my family, Lily’s teachers—they all think I posted this.”
She looked up at me.
Tears streaming down her face.
“Ethan, they’re going to come after you. And if they do… if anything happens to you… I’ll never forgive myself.”
I picked up her phone.
I read the comments again.
The anger.
The hatred.
The calls for violence.
Jake had done this perfectly.
If someone hurt me now, it would look like random vigilante justice.
Nothing tying back to him.
And if I fought back?
If I hurt someone?
That was exactly what he wanted.
A criminal record.
More proof I was dangerous.
“We need to go to my place,” I said.
“Why?”
“Because Jake knows where I live. And if he’s this far ahead of us already, he might have already sent someone there.”
May you like
I opened the driver’s door.
“Also—because I have a friend who owes me a favor. And if we’re going to beat Jake Carter at his own game? We’re going to need someone who knows how to play dirty.”
