Chapter 2
The padlock broke on Dad's third swing.
Vanessa screamed at him to stop.
He didn't.
The lock hit the floor.
Dad pulled the basement door open.
Darkness waited below.
The light switch didn't work.
“Mom!”
I tried to run past him.
Dad caught me.
“Stay here.”
“No!”
“Sophie, stay with me.”
Vanessa backed toward the kitchen.
Dad noticed.
“So help me God, if you leave this house—”
“I didn't do anything.”
Her voice shook.
Dad stared at her.
“I didn't accuse you yet.”
That stopped her.
He turned on his phone flashlight.
Then started downstairs.
I held his shirt.
He tried to make me stay behind.
I refused.
Eventually, he let me follow two steps behind him.
The basement smelled strange.
Damp concrete.
Dust.
And something chemical.
Dad called:
“Natalie?”
Nothing.
Then we heard scraping.
From the storage room.
The door was closed.
Dad ran.
It was locked from the outside with a sliding bolt.
He looked over his shoulder.
Vanessa was standing at the top of the stairs.
“Why is this locked?”
“I don't know.”
Dad shoved the bolt open.
The door swung inward.
My mother was lying on the floor.
“Mom!”
I screamed so loudly my throat hurt.
Dad dropped beside her.
Natalie's hands were tied in front with plastic restraints.
Gray tape covered her mouth.
One ankle was chained to a pipe.
Her eyes opened.
Barely.
But she saw me.
She started crying.
Dad ripped the tape away.
“Natalie.”
She gasped.
“Owen…”
“What happened?”
“Get Sophie out.”
“No!”
Mom looked at me.
“Sophie, baby.”
I ran to her.
Dad didn't stop me this time.
I fell beside her and wrapped my arms around her shoulders.
She was freezing.
Her hair stuck to her face.
“Mom.”
“I knew you'd hear.”
“You knocked.”
She tried to smile.
“Our knock.”
Dad pulled out his phone.
“I'm calling 911.”
Vanessa suddenly ran.
We heard the front door slam.
Dad looked toward the stairs.
“Damn it.”
Mom grabbed his wrist.
“Let her go.”
He stared.
“She did this to you.”
“She wasn't alone.”
Dad froze.
“What?”
Mom's eyes fluttered.
“She wasn't alone.”
Then she went limp.
I screamed again.
Dad checked her breathing.
“She is breathing.”
He called emergency services.
I stayed beside Mom while Dad found bolt cutters.
His hands shook so badly he dropped them twice.
Police arrived before he managed to cut the chain.
Paramedics followed.
The basement filled with strangers.
Someone took me upstairs.
I fought them.
“I stay with Mom.”
A female officer crouched.
“She needs doctors, Sophie.”
“Vanessa did it.”
The officer looked at me.
“I believe you.”
Those three words helped.
Dad came upstairs carrying Mom's purse.
He looked furious.
And terrified.
“Where's Vanessa?”
The police officer answered.
“Her car is gone.”
Dad cursed.
Then he saw me.
His face changed.
He knelt.
“Come here.”
I ran into him.
“Is Mom dying?”
“No.”
“You don't know.”
He closed his eyes.
“No. I don't.”
That honesty terrified me.
But I trusted it.
We rode to the hospital behind the ambulance.
Police stayed at the house.
During the drive, Dad kept one hand on the steering wheel and one around mine.
“What did Vanessa say today?”
I remembered the recording.
“My tablet.”
“What?”
“I recorded her.”
Dad looked at me.
“What did you record?”
“She called someone.”
His face hardened.
“What did she say?”
I repeated it.
The girl heard her.
Owen will be home soon.
You said she would be unconscious longer.
Dad's knuckles turned white around the steering wheel.
“Where's the tablet?”
“Your office.”
He called the detective immediately.
At the hospital, doctors took Mom through emergency doors.
Dad wasn't allowed inside at first.
Neither was I.
We sat together.
He called Grandma Ruth, Mom's mother.
Then his brother Caleb.
Then he stopped.
He stared at his phone.
“What?”
I asked.
“Vanessa.”
“What about her?”
“She texted me.”
He showed me.
I didn't understand every word.
Don't believe Natalie. She attacked me first. I panicked. I never meant for this to happen.
Dad laughed once.
It sounded frightening.
Then another message came.
You know how unstable she is.
I looked at him.
“Mom isn't unstable.”
“I know.”
“Vanessa said she forgets things.”
Dad looked at me sharply.
“What things?”
I told him what Vanessa said that morning.
His face tightened.
“Sophie.”
“What?”
“Has Vanessa ever told you things about your mom before?”
I thought.
“Yes.”
Dad became very still.
“What?”
“That Mom gets confused.”
“What else?”
“That sometimes Mom doesn't really want me but feels guilty.”
He closed his eyes.
“That isn't true.”
“I know.”
“She said that?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Since summer.”
Dad stood and walked away three steps.
He pressed both hands against his head.
I had never seen him look so guilty.
He came back.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“I thought you'd be mad.”
“At you?”
“No.”
I looked at the floor.
“At Vanessa.”
His face broke.
“You were protecting me from being angry?”
I shrugged.
He knelt.
“You never have to do that again.”
A doctor finally came out.
Mom was stable.
She had been given a sedative.
Not enough to kill her.
Enough to make her weak and confused.
She was dehydrated.
Bruised.
But alive.
Dad nearly collapsed from relief.
I cried so hard a nurse brought tissues.
When we entered, Mom was awake.
She held out her arms.
I climbed carefully onto the bed.
“I heard you.”
“I know.”
“Vanessa turned on the washing machine.”
Mom kissed my hair.
“You still heard.”
Dad stood beside us.
His eyes were wet.
“Natalie.”
Mom looked at him.
Something passed between them.
They had been divorced for four years.
Their relationship was complicated.
They argued.
But I had never doubted they cared whether the other lived.
Dad asked:
“What happened?”
Mom looked toward me.
“You should take Sophie outside.”
“No.”
“Sophie.”
“She already saw me chained to a pipe.”
Mom closed her eyes.
I added:
“I heard Vanessa say someone helped.”
Dad looked at Mom.
She whispered:
“She knows.”
Dad sat.
“Tell me.”
Mom took a breath.
“I came to pick Sophie up.”
My body stiffened.
“What time?”
“A little before ten.”
My heart stopped.
“You were here?”
She nodded.
“You came?”
“I came.”
Vanessa had lied.
Mom continued.
“Vanessa met me outside.”
Dad frowned.
“At the door?”
“In the driveway.”
“She said Sophie was upstairs finishing breakfast.”
Mom looked at him.
“She asked to speak privately first.”
“About what?”
“You.”
Dad stared.
“She said she had found something and needed advice.”
“What?”
“Financial documents.”
Dad looked confused.
Mom's voice became quieter.
“She said she thought you were hiding money from both of us.”
Dad sat back.
“What?”
“I didn't believe her.”
“Then why go inside?”
“Because she showed me one paper.”
Mom looked at Dad.
“It had your signature.”
“What paper?”
“A life insurance policy.”
Dad's face changed.
“What life insurance policy?”
Mom whispered:
“One on Sophie.”
The room went silent.
I didn't understand.
Dad did.
“Who owns it?”
Mom swallowed.
May you like
“Vanessa.”
Dad's entire body went rigid.
