Chapter 5
I sat in Rebecca's office staring at a document bearing my name.
Marcus Johnson.
Father of Lily Johnson.
Temporarily unable to provide consistent parental supervision.
I read the sentence three times.
Then I looked at Rebecca.
"Who wrote this?"
She pointed toward the signature.
Denise Johnson.
My wife.
The woman I had trusted to care for my daughter.
I felt sick.
"She told the school I was mentally unstable?"
Rebecca nodded.
"She submitted a written statement claiming you'd experienced several serious emotional episodes."
I stared at her.
"That's a lie."
"I understand."
"I've never been hospitalized."
"Then the supporting document may also be false."
She slid another paper toward me.
It was supposedly a medical recommendation.
The letterhead resembled that of a local clinic.
But the doctor's name was unfamiliar.
Rebecca had contacted the clinic.
They could not verify that the letter had been issued.
I gripped the edge of the desk.
"Why would she do this?"
Rebecca studied me.
"Has Denise ever tried to control your access to Lily's school or medical information?"
I thought back.
Too many memories came at once.
Denise insisting on attending every parent-teacher meeting alone.
Denise telling me Lily's pediatrician had recommended stricter discipline.
Denise saying the school preferred communicating through her.
I had worked long hours.
Sometimes sixty hours a week.
I believed my wife was helping.
Now I wondered how much of my daughter's life had been hidden from me.
"She handled most of the paperwork," I admitted.
Rebecca nodded.
"We need to obtain the complete records."
I stared at the forged-looking letter.
"Could she take Lily away from me?"
Rebecca answered carefully.
"Not just by filing a school form. But any attempt to misrepresent your parental capacity is serious. We'll address it immediately."
I leaned back.
For a moment, I couldn't breathe.
Then I remembered something.
Three months earlier, Denise had asked me to sign several insurance documents.
She said they were routine updates connected to my employer.
I signed them after a long shift.
I barely read them.
My stomach tightened.
"Rebecca?"
She looked up.
"I think there may be other paperwork."
Her expression changed.
"What kind?"
I told her.
She immediately asked me to obtain copies of my insurance and beneficiary records.
That afternoon, I called my employer's human resources department.
The woman on the phone was polite.
Then she became concerned.
"Mr. Johnson, it appears there was a recent request to update some of your dependent and beneficiary information."
My mouth went dry.
"When?"
"Approximately eight weeks ago."
I stared at the wall.
Eight weeks.
Around the same time Denise had intensified her complaints about Lily.
"What was changed?"
The woman explained that a submitted request sought to designate Denise as the sole beneficiary of a supplemental life insurance policy.
I felt my stomach twist.
"Was it processed?"
"No. The request was incomplete and required additional verification."
I closed my eyes.
Relief washed over me.
Then another thought arrived.
Denise hadn't been content to control the house.
She had been trying to control every part of our future.
My finances.
My daughter.
My reputation.
My legal standing as a parent.
I forwarded the records to Rebecca.
Then I went home to Vanessa's house.
Lily was sitting at the kitchen table drawing.
When she saw me, she smiled.
"Daddy!"
I forced a smile.
"Hey, sunshine."
She held up a picture.
It showed a little house.
Three people stood outside.
One was Lily.
One was me.
The third wore a white dress and had long curly hair.
My throat tightened.
"Is that Mommy Rachel?"
Lily nodded.
"She lives in the stars."
I sat beside her.
"That's beautiful."
She looked at me carefully.
"Daddy?"
"Yes?"
"Are you going to marry somebody else?"
My heart squeezed.
"Why do you ask?"
She looked down.
"Because Denise said all daddies need wives."
I swallowed.
"Not all daddies."
She stared at me.
"Really?"
I smiled gently.
"Really."
She hesitated.
"Then can it just be us?"
Tears filled my eyes.
I pulled her close.
"Yes, sweetheart."
She hugged me tightly.
Then whispered, "I like us."
I kissed her forehead.
"So do I."
That night, Vanessa and I sat at the kitchen table after Lily fell asleep.
She had made tea.
I hadn't touched mine.
"I don't understand how I missed everything."
Vanessa looked at me.
"Marcus, Denise worked hard to hide it."
I shook my head.
"But Lily was right there."
"She was also being threatened."
I stared at the table.
Vanessa continued.
"Children often try to protect the adults they love. Especially when someone tells them the truth will hurt their family."
I rubbed my eyes.
"I keep thinking about every time Lily asked me not to leave for work."
Vanessa was silent.
"Every time she cried when I went out the door, I thought she was just having separation anxiety."
My voice broke.
"I told her she had to be brave."
Vanessa reached across the table.
"Then tell her something different now."
I looked up.
"What?"
"Tell her she doesn't have to be brave alone."
The next morning, I did exactly that.
Lily was sitting on my bed, brushing her rabbit's fur.
I sat beside her.
"Baby, can Daddy tell you something?"
She nodded.
I took a breath.
"I made a mistake."
Her eyes widened.
"What mistake?"
"I didn't understand how scared you were."
She looked down.
I continued.
"When you asked me not to go to work, I thought you were just sad because you missed me."
Her lips trembled.
"I'm sorry, Daddy."
I immediately shook my head.
"No, baby. You don't need to apologize."
She stared at me.
I swallowed.
"I should've listened more carefully. I'm sorry."
For several seconds, she didn't move.
Then she whispered, "I tried to tell you."
My eyes filled.
"I know."
"Denise said you wouldn't believe me."
I pulled her into my arms.
"I believe you."
She started crying.
Not the frightened sobs I had heard under the dining table.
These were deep, exhausted tears.
The kind that came after holding too much inside for too long.
I held her.
And I didn't tell her to stop.
Later that afternoon, Naomi called with an update.
The investigation had uncovered another troubling detail.
A school employee had reported that Denise repeatedly requested Lily be sent home early because of supposed behavioral incidents.
But the school's own records did not support those claims.
Several teachers described Lily as quiet, polite, and unusually anxious about making mistakes.
One teacher remembered her hiding uneaten food in her backpack.
Another recalled Lily asking whether parents could stop loving children who cried too much.
My heart shattered all over again.
Then Naomi said something unexpected.
"Mr. Johnson, there's a woman who may have important information."
I straightened.
"Who?"
"A former babysitter named Camille Harris."
I frowned.
"We never had a babysitter."
Naomi paused.
"According to Camille, Denise hired her privately several months ago."
I stared at the phone.
"To watch Lily?"
"Yes."
My pulse quickened.
"Why didn't I know?"
"We don't know."
Naomi continued.
"Camille says she stopped working for Denise after witnessing an incident involving Lily."
I swallowed.
"What incident?"
Naomi's voice became serious.
"She says Denise ordered her not to comfort Lily after the child became frightened and began crying."
I gripped the phone.
"Did Camille help her?"
"She says she tried."
I closed my eyes.
Then Naomi added something that made me sit upright.
"Camille also reports that Denise kept a locked box containing documents about Lily and your late wife."
My breath caught.
"Rachel?"
"Yes."
I stared toward the bedroom where Lily was sleeping.
Denise had been married to me for nearly three years.
Rachel had been gone for four.
Why would Denise be hiding documents about a woman she barely knew?
Naomi paused.
Then she asked one final question.
"Marcus, did Rachel leave any property or money in trust for Lily?"
I felt my heart stop.
Because suddenly, I remembered the one thing I had almost forgotten.
May you like
Rachel had left our daughter an inheritance.
And Lily was supposed to receive it when she turned eighteen.
