Chapter 3
The sun came up gray and cold.
I didn’t sleep a wink.
I got up at six, my eyes puffy, my throat raw, and went downstairs to make coffee. The house was quiet. Too quiet.
Daniel was asleep on the couch, his arm thrown over his face. The photo was still on the dining table, face up.
Diane was in the kitchen, already dressed, making toast. She smiled when she saw me.
“Morning, Sarah. Sleep well?”
I ignored her.
I filled the kettle and slammed it on the stove. The sound made Daniel jolt awake. He sat up, rubbed his face, and looked at me like he’d forgotten I existed.
“Where’s Lily?” he asked, his voice rough.
“Still asleep.” I turned to face him. “We need to talk. About the photo. About last night.”
Diane set a plate of toast on the table. “Actually, we all need to talk. About what we’re going to do about this man. He’s clearly dangerous. Sarah’s not capable of keeping Lily safe. I think I should take over her care—”
“Nobody asked you.” Daniel stood up, wincing at the crick in his neck. “Sarah and I will handle this. Alone.”
For half a second, I felt a spark of hope.
Then he looked at me, and the spark died.
“After we take Lily to school,” he said, “we’re going to the principal. We’re going to find out how this man got close enough to give her a photo. And then we’re going to the police.”
I nodded. “Okay. Good.”
Lily came down the stairs ten minutes later, her hair messy, her eyes still puffy. She clung to me when she saw Diane, wouldn’t let go long enough to eat her breakfast.
Diane tried to hand her a piece of toast. “Come on, honey. Grandma made it just how you like it.”
Lily turned her face into my shoulder. “No.”
Diane’s smile tightened. “Suit yourself. Ungrateful little thing, just like her mother.”
Daniel said nothing.
We drove to school in silence. Lily held my hand the whole walk to the classroom, wouldn’t let go until her teacher pried her fingers loose.
“I’ll pick you up early, okay?” I knelt down, brushing the hair off her face. “I promise. No more secrets. Whatever you need to tell me, you can. I won’t be mad.”
Lily nodded, her lip trembling. “Okay, Mommy.”
We walked to the principal’s office.
Ms. Henderson, the principal, knew us well. She’d been at the school since Lily started kindergarten. She frowned when we told her about the photo, about the strange man.
“I’m so sorry this happened.” She pulled up Lily’s sign-out records on her computer. “We have strict protocols. No one leaves with a child without ID and a pre-approved note.”
She clicked a few keys.
Her face went white.
“What?” Daniel leaned over the desk. “What is it?”
“Three months ago.” Ms. Henderson’s voice shook. “October twelfth. A man signed Lily out for twenty minutes. Name was Ethan Carter. He listed himself as her uncle. He had a handwritten note, supposedly from you, Sarah, giving him permission. And his driver’s license checked out.”
I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach.
October twelfth.
I’d been at a work conference that day. Daniel had been on a site visit. We’d told Lily she’d be in aftercare until five.
“I never wrote a note.” My voice was barely a whisper. “I don’t know any Ethan Carter. I’ve never heard that name in my life.”
Daniel was staring at the screen, his face rigid. “Twenty minutes. He had our daughter alone for twenty minutes. And none of you thought to call us? To confirm?”
“The note looked authentic,” Ms. Henderson said, defensive now. “It had your signature—”
“It wasn’t my signature!” I screamed, slamming my hand on the desk. “That man kidnapped my daughter for twenty minutes and you just let him walk out the door!”
Ms. Henderson flinched. “I understand you’re upset—”
“Upset?” Daniel stood up, his chair scraping the floor. “My wife is right. You failed our child. If anything happens to her from this point on, this school is liable. We will sue. Do you understand me?”
We left the office with copies of the sign-out sheet, with Ethan Carter’s name and signature scrawled at the bottom.
We drove straight to the police station.
We sat in a small, cold interview room for an hour, telling the same story over and over to a detective named Miller. He took notes, nodded, asked the same questions three times.
Then he leaned back in his chair and sighed.
“Look. I get why you’re scared. But right now? This is a civil matter, not a criminal one. He claims he’s the father. He didn’t hurt her. He didn’t demand money. He left a note saying he wants to see her. Until he makes a threat or tries to take her without permission, there’s nothing we can do.”
“Nothing?” I stared at him, disbelieving. “He forged my signature. He took my daughter from school. That’s kidnapping!”
“Legally? No.” Miller shook his head. “If he is the biological father, he has rights. Your best bet is to lawyer up. File for full custody. Get a restraining order if he contacts you again.”
We left the police station with nothing but a case number and a sick feeling in our guts.
Daniel didn’t speak the whole drive home.
When we pulled into the driveway, my phone buzzed in my pocket.
Unknown number.
I stared at it for a long second. Then I answered, putting it on speaker.
A man’s voice came through the line. Deep. Calm. Familiar in a way that made my skin crawl.
“Hello, Sarah. It’s Ethan. We need to talk.”
I dropped the phone.
It clattered on the center console. His voice kept coming, low and steady.
“I’m not here to hurt anyone. I just want to meet my little girl. Stop hiding her, Sarah. It’s only going to get worse for all of us if you do.”
Daniel stared at the phone.
Then he slowly looked at me.
His eyes were full of a hate I’d never seen before.
“Ethan Carter,” he said. “You said you never heard that name.”
“I haven’t,” I whispered. “I swear.”
“Then how does he know your number? How does he know Lily’s name? How does he know where we live?”
I had no answer.
Because deep down, I was starting to realize something terrible.
I did know Ethan Carter.
I’d just buried him so deep in my past, I’d convinced myself he didn’t exist anymore.
May you like
And Diane?
She’d dug him up.
