Chapter 6
I called Celia first.
Then Leah.
Then the police.
Detective Harper arrived at my house at 9:30 p.m.
She wore plain clothes and listened without interrupting.
Milo sat on the sofa under a blanket, holding his stuffed whale.
I stayed beside him.
Detective Harper crouched.
“Milo, your mom says you know a girl named Tessa.”
Milo nodded.
“Where did you see her?”
“At Daddy’s.”
“Where at Daddy’s?”
He looked at me.
I squeezed his hand.
“The garage room.”
“What is the garage room?”
He swallowed.
“The place for thinking.”
My stomach turned.
Detective Harper’s face stayed gentle.
“Did you go there?”
Milo nodded.
“When?”
“When Daddy came home late.”
“What happened there?”
Milo’s eyes filled.
“You have to kneel by the heater pipe so you remember.”
“Remember what?”
His voice became tiny.
“To be grateful.”
I closed my eyes.
Do not break.
Not now.
Detective Harper asked, “Was Tessa there?”
“Yes.”
“Was she okay?”
Milo shook his head.
“She was cold.”
“Did anyone hurt her?”
He pressed his face into my side.
“Daddy said she was a liar.”
That was all he could give.
It was enough for an emergency welfare check.
Not enough for a warrant, Celia warned.
But Detective Harper knew how to push.
She contacted child protective services.
Leah pulled Tessa’s records.
Celia filed an emergency affidavit.
By midnight, officers were at Gideon’s house.
I waited by the phone with Milo asleep in my lap.
At 1:17 a.m., Detective Harper called.
Her voice was controlled.
Too controlled.
“We found the garage room.”
I stopped breathing.
“And Tessa?”
A pause.
“No child in the house.”
My heart sank.
“But there is evidence a child was there recently.”
“What evidence?”
“Blankets. Food wrappers. A child’s sock. Scratches on the inside of the door.”
Milo stirred in my arms.
“Where is she?”
“We’re working on that.”
The next morning, Gideon filed a complaint claiming I had weaponized police against him.
Then he made his second mistake.
He called Milo during breakfast, even though the order required communication through me.
I recorded it.
His voice came through my speaker.
“Buddy, did Mommy make you tell stories?”
Milo looked at me.
Then at the phone.
For the first time, my son did not go flat.
He got angry.
May you like
“Tessa is real,” he said.
Then he hung up.
