Chapter 18
One year after Easter, Lily asked to visit Richard’s estate.
I almost said no immediately.
Then I remembered.
Safety meant choice.
“Why?” I asked.
She sat across from me at the kitchen table.
The same table where we had rebuilt her world one meal at a time.
“I want to see the room and leave when I choose.”
Dr. Ross supported it.
Olivia arranged legal clearance.
The estate had been seized during restitution proceedings and was being sold.
We went with Mara, Marcus, Olivia, and a trauma advocate.
No Richard.
No Eleanor.
No chief.
Just walls.
The Easter tents were gone.
The lawn was empty.
The front steps looked smaller.
Lily held my hand as we walked in.
The living room had no white rug now.
It had been evidence.
Good.
She stood in the center of the room.
Her breathing changed.
I waited.
She looked toward the couch where her phone had been hidden.
Then toward the window where children had laughed outside.
“I thought I was going to die here,” she whispered.
My eyes burned.
I did not interrupt.
She looked at me.
“And then I thought maybe living would be worse if nobody believed me.”
“I believe you.”
“I know now.”
She walked to the front door.
Then stopped.
“Can I say something?”
“To me?”
“To the room.”
I nodded.
She faced the empty living room.
“You don’t keep me anymore.”
Silence followed.
Not cruel silence.
Finished silence.
We left.
Outside, she asked for ice cream.
I cried in the driver’s seat before starting the truck.
She pretended not to notice.
Then she said, “Dad, your sad face is making me want two scoops.”
May you like
I laughed.
She got three.
