Chapter 2
Vanessa recovered faster than I expected.
People like her always do.
Fear crossed her face.
Then calculation buried it.
“You spoke to a grieving woman,” she said. “Daniel’s sister hated me.”
“She sent me photos.”
Vanessa swallowed.
“What photos?”
I pulled my phone from my pocket.
Sophie clung to the back of my shirt.
I did not show her the screen.
I showed Vanessa.
Daniel Marsh in a hospital bed.
Bruises across his ribs.
A split lip.
Police notes describing repeated domestic calls.
A restraining order request he withdrew two days before he disappeared.
Vanessa stared at the screen like it had betrayed her.
“He was unstable,” she whispered.
“That is what you said about Sophie.”
Her eyes lifted to mine.
A mistake.
Because I saw the truth in them.
Not guilt.
Anger.
“You had no right digging through my past.”
“You had no right touching my child.”
“She needed discipline.”
Sophie whimpered.
The word did something to her.
Discipline.
I turned and picked her up.
“Go upstairs with me.”
Vanessa stepped in front of the stairs.
“We are not done.”
“Yes,” I said. “We are.”
Her voice dropped.
“If you leave this room with her, I swear I will make you regret it.”
I looked at my wife.
The woman I had married because she seemed gentle.
Patient.
Soft with grief.
She had come into our lives one year after Laura died.
Laura.
My first wife.
Sophie’s mother.
The woman who made bedtime songs out of grocery lists and kissed every scraped knee like it mattered more than the world.
Vanessa had studied that absence.
Then entered it.
Now I saw it clearly.
“You already made me regret letting you near her.”
I carried Sophie upstairs.
Vanessa followed.
“You’re emotional.”
I closed Sophie’s bedroom door behind us and locked it.
Sophie looked terrified.
“Is she mad?”
“Yes.”
“Will she hurt me later?”
The question destroyed me.
I sat on the bed and pulled her into my lap.
“There will be no later for her in this house.”
Sophie stared at me.
“Promise?”
I wanted to say yes immediately.
But promises had failed her before.
So I took her small hand.
“I promise, and I’m going to prove it.”
I called my brother Aaron first.
He was a detective in another county.
Not because I wanted favors.
Because I needed someone who would tell me the truth, even if it hurt.
He answered on the second ring.
“What’s wrong?”
“I need you at my house.”
His voice changed.
“Sophie?”
“Yes.”
“I’m coming.”
Then I called Dr. Patel, Sophie’s pediatrician.
Then I called my lawyer.
Downstairs, something crashed.
Vanessa screamed my name.
Sophie flinched.
I held her tighter.
May you like
“She can break dishes,” I whispered. “She cannot break us.”
But even as I said it, I knew Vanessa would not go quietly.
