Chapter 7
Dad called at 11:32 that night.
His voice came through Aunt Rachel’s phone from the county jail.
Small.
Far away.
But alive.
“Ava?”
I grabbed the phone with both hands.
“Dad.”
He breathed out, and I heard him crying.
Not loud.
Not dramatic.
Just broken.
“Are you hurt worse than I saw?”
“I’m okay.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
That made me cry harder.
Because he sounded like Dad again.
The dad who checked fevers with the back of his hand.
The dad who cut sandwiches into triangles because Noah said squares tasted sad.
The dad who used to sing off-key in the kitchen when Mom was alive.
“My back hurts,” I admitted. “Noah’s legs are bad. But we’re safe with Aunt Rachel.”
“Good,” he whispered. “Good.”
Noah took the phone next.
“Dad?”
“Oh, buddy.”
“I’m sorry I broke the glass.”
Dad made a sound like someone had punched him.
“No. Noah, listen to me. You never have to apologize for being hurt. Never. Do you hear me?”
Noah cried silently.
I wrapped an arm around him.
Dad said, “I should have protected you.”
“You didn’t know.”
“I should have known.”
Aunt Rachel took the phone after that.
She walked into the hallway, but I could still hear pieces.
“Elise called me.”
“I know.”
“You should have told me everything.”
“I was scared.”
“So were your children.”
Silence.
Then Dad said, “I know.”
Aunt Rachel’s voice cracked.
“You brought that woman into Elise’s house.”
“I know.”
That was the first time I realized love and blame could live in the same room.
I loved Dad.
I needed him.
I also wanted to scream at him until my throat bled.
Because Melissa had not appeared out of nowhere.
He had opened the door.
When Aunt Rachel came back, her eyes were red.
“He wants to talk to you again.”
I took the phone.
“Ava, the phone you found—”
“Morales has it.”
“Good.”
“Dad, did you know Melissa knew Mom before the crash?”
His silence answered before he did.
“I found out three weeks ago.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I did not know how much was true.”
“That’s not good enough.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t. We lived with her. Noah was starving in his own kitchen while you were waiting to be sure.”
His breath shook.
“You’re right.”
I expected excuses.
Work.
Grief.
Manipulation.
How convincing Melissa had been.
How tired he was.
How hard it was to raise us alone.
He gave me none of that.
“I failed you,” he said. “I believed the wrong person because the truth meant admitting I had put you in danger. I was weak. I am sorry.”
My anger did not disappear.
But it changed.
It stopped spinning.
It became something I could hold.
“Are you getting out?”
“My attorney is working on bail. Morales is helping. But the recording is bad.”
“It’s fake.”
“I know.”
“We’ll prove it.”
“You should not have to.”
“But I will.”
“Ava—”
“No. Melissa hurt Mom. She hurt Noah. She hurt me. She framed you. I am not hiding anymore.”
Dad was quiet.
Then he said, “You sound like your mother.”
I pressed the phone to my ear.
“Good.”
After the call, Morales took the burner phone and flash drive to the station.
Two officers stayed outside Aunt Rachel’s house.
I did not sleep.
Neither did Noah.
We lay together on the pullout couch while Aunt Rachel dozed in the recliner with one hand still holding her phone.
Every sound made Noah twitch.
At 3 a.m., he whispered, “Do you think Mom was scared?”
I stared at the ceiling.
“Yes.”
He rolled toward me.
“Did it hurt?”
My throat closed.
“I don’t know.”
“Do you think she knew Melissa did it?”
I wanted to say no.
I wanted to protect him with a soft lie.
But Melissa’s lies had almost destroyed us.
So I told him the truth I could bear.
“I think Mom knew something was wrong. I think she tried to tell people. And I think she loved us until the very last second.”
Noah cried into my shoulder.
I held him until his breathing slowed.
The next morning, everything moved fast.
Morales returned at sunrise with a detective named Priya Shah.
She had kind eyes and a voice like steel wrapped in velvet.
She placed printed photos and documents across Aunt Rachel’s dining table.
“We have preliminary confirmation,” Detective Shah said. “The audio Melissa submitted was manipulated.”
I sagged against the chair.
Aunt Rachel covered her mouth.
“How preliminary?” she asked.
“Enough to challenge the hold. Not enough for trial yet.”
“What about the phone?”
Shah pointed to one printed message.
“The phone links Melissa to a man named Richard Kane. Former mechanic. Former insurance investigator. Fired five years ago for evidence tampering.”
“Kane,” I whispered. “R.K.”
“He was also the first responder who documented your mother’s vehicle after the crash.”
Aunt Rachel stood.
“No.”
“Yes.”
Detective Shah looked at me.
“We believe Melissa and Kane knew each other before your mother died. We also believe Kane helped alter the crash report.”
My stomach twisted.
“What happens now?”
“We find them.”
“They’re together?”
“We think so.”
Morales leaned forward.
“Ava, did Melissa ever mention a place she liked? A cabin, motel, storage unit, old friend?”
I shook my head.
Then Noah sat up slowly.
“The lake.”
Everyone turned to him.
“What lake?” Detective Shah asked.
Noah swallowed.
“Melissa used to say if Dad ever got smart, she’d go to the lake house and let him drown in his own guilt.”
Aunt Rachel frowned.
“We don’t have a lake house.”
I remembered something.
“Mom did.”
The room went still.
“Before she married Dad,” I said. “Her parents had a small place near Cedar Creek Lake. Dad sold it after she died.”
Aunt Rachel’s face went pale.
“No,” she whispered. “He didn’t sell it.”
“What?”
“Elise left it to the children. It was supposed to stay locked until you turned eighteen.”
Detective Shah was already moving.
“What’s the address?”
Aunt Rachel ran for her office.
May you like
My heart pounded.
Melissa had been hiding in my mother’s house.
