Chapter 4
I spent my first night at Daddy's house with the lights on.
He didn't complain.
He made my bed with purple sheets.
Put my favorite stuffed rabbit beside the pillow.
And left the hallway light glowing.
Then he sat on the edge of my bed.
"Everything okay, princess?"
I nodded.
But it wasn't true.
Every sound made me jump.
When the refrigerator hummed downstairs, I thought someone was opening a door.
When a car passed outside, I thought Derek had found us.
When the wind moved the tree branches against the window, I pulled the blanket over my head.
Daddy noticed.
He didn't tell me to stop being silly.
He simply moved a chair beside my bed.
"Want me to stay until you fall asleep?"
I nodded quickly.
"Please."
He smiled.
"Of course."
For a while, he read my favorite book.
Then he turned off the lamp.
I stared toward the door.
"Daddy?"
"Yes?"
"Can Derek come here?"
Daddy put down the book.
"We've told the police about the situation, and we're taking steps to keep you safe."
I swallowed.
"Does he know where you live?"
Daddy hesitated.
"He might."
My stomach tightened.
Then Daddy continued.
"But you're not responsible for dealing with him. That's the grown-ups' job."
I nodded.
He leaned closer.
"You did exactly what you should've done by calling for help."
My eyes filled.
"I was scared."
Daddy gently brushed a braid away from my face.
"I know."
I swallowed.
"I thought he was going to break my door."
Daddy's eyes became wet.
He took a slow breath.
"I'm so sorry you went through that."
I hugged him.
Then I whispered something I'd been afraid to say.
"I don't want to go back there."
Daddy held me tighter.
"I hear you."
I looked up.
"Promise?"
He nodded.
"I promise I'll do everything I can to keep you safe."
That was enough for me.
At least for that night.
The next morning, Daddy made pancakes.
He shaped them like hearts.
They looked more like crooked potatoes.
I laughed.
He grinned.
"What? I'm an artist."
I shook my head.
"You're a bad artist."
He pretended to look offended.
"Excuse me?"
I giggled.
For a moment, everything felt normal.
Then my phone vibrated.
A message from Mom.
"Good morning, sweetheart. I love you."
I stared at it.
Daddy noticed.
"Want to answer?"
I hesitated.
Then typed:
"I love you too."
I added a purple heart.
Mom replied immediately.
Three hearts.
And a picture of the stuffed bear she'd bought me when I was little.
I smiled.
But then another message appeared.
"Can we talk later?"
My stomach tightened.
I looked at Daddy.
He nodded gently.
"You can talk to Mom whenever you're ready."
I swallowed.
"Will Derek be there?"
Daddy's expression changed.
"No. Not during any call we arrange."
I felt relieved.
That afternoon, a woman named Mrs. Brooks came to visit.
She was the same social worker I'd seen at the hospital.
She wore a light-blue blazer and carried a small notebook.
She sat with Daddy at the kitchen table.
Then asked whether I wanted to talk.
I nodded.
She didn't make me sit like I was in trouble.
Instead, we sat on the living room rug.
She asked about school.
My favorite subjects.
My friends.
Then she asked what home felt like before the incident.
I thought carefully.
"Sometimes good."
She nodded.
"And sometimes?"
I looked down.
"Like I had to be quiet."
She didn't interrupt.
I continued.
"When Derek came home angry, Grandma would tell me to go play upstairs."
Mrs. Brooks nodded.
"Did that happen often?"
I shrugged.
"Sometimes."
She asked whether I remembered anything else.
I thought about the night before the birthday party.
Then the week Grandma cried in the laundry room.
Then the afternoon Derek threw away a drawing because I'd used one of his work papers.
I told her everything I could remember.
Not because I wanted Derek punished.
But because I wanted someone to understand why I was afraid.
When we finished, Mrs. Brooks smiled gently.
"Thank you for telling me."
I nodded.
She continued.
"You don't have to remember everything at once."
I felt relieved.
Because sometimes my memories came in pieces.
A shout.
A slammed door.
Grandma's frightened eyes.
Then silence.
I didn't know how to put everything in order.
After Mrs. Brooks left, Daddy sat beside me.
"How are you feeling?"
I thought about it.
"Tired."
He nodded.
"That's understandable."
I leaned against him.
"Can we watch a movie?"
He smiled.
"Absolutely."
We watched a funny movie about a dog that kept getting into trouble.
I laughed so hard I nearly spilled my juice.
For the first time since the incident, I forgot to be frightened for almost an hour.
Then Daddy's phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
His expression changed.
He stepped into the kitchen.
I couldn't hear everything.
But I heard him say Grandma's name.
Then I heard the word documents.
And finally, he said, "That doesn't make sense."
My stomach tightened.
When he returned, I sat straighter.
"Is Grandma okay?"
He nodded.
"Yes, sweetheart."
I studied his face.
"Then what's wrong?"
Daddy sat beside me.
He looked thoughtful.
"Grandma found some papers in the house."
I frowned.
"What papers?"
He hesitated.
"Important papers about money and the house."
I didn't understand.
Why would papers make him look so worried?
Then I remembered something.
A few weeks earlier, I'd seen Derek standing in Grandma's bedroom.
He was holding a folder.
When I asked what he was doing, he'd snapped at me.
"Mind your business."
I looked at Daddy.
"Was it a yellow folder?"
His expression changed.
"What?"
I swallowed.
"Derek had a yellow folder."
Daddy leaned forward.
"Where did you see it?"
"In Grandma's room."
His face became very serious.
"When?"
I tried to remember.
"The day after Mom worked all night."
Daddy took a slow breath.
"What was Derek doing?"
I looked down.
"He was looking through Grandma's drawer."
Daddy went still.
Then he asked, "Did Grandma know?"
I shook my head.
"She was sleeping."
He closed his eyes.
For a moment, I thought he was angry with me.
Then he took my hand.
"Thank you for telling me."
I nodded.
He asked whether I remembered anything else.
I hesitated.
Then whispered, "Derek said something on the phone."
Daddy looked at me.
"What?"
I swallowed.
"He said Grandma would sign when she got scared enough."
Daddy's face changed.
And suddenly, I understood that Derek hadn't only been frightening Grandma because he was angry.
He wanted something from her.
May you like
Something hidden inside that yellow folder.
And whatever it was, he had been planning it long before I came home from school.
