Chapter 4
By the time I reached the house, a police cruiser was parked outside.
Victoria’s mother, Elaine, stood on the sidewalk with two suitcases and a face full of outrage.
Rachel was on the porch with both children behind her inside the locked door.
Ethan was visible through the side window.
Watching.
Always watching now.
Officer Daniels stood between Elaine and the walkway.
Elaine pointed at me the second I got out of the car.
“You threw my daughter out like trash.”
“I removed an adult who hit my child.”
“She was raising them.”
“She was hurting them.”
Elaine’s face twisted.
“You widowers always want a woman to do the work, then punish her when she disciplines.”
I stepped closer.
“Do not speak about my wife, my children, or my grief again.”
“She loved those children.”
Ethan opened the front door before Rachel could stop him.
His voice shook, but he spoke.
“No, she didn’t.”
Everyone turned.
I moved toward him.
He stood in the doorway wearing socks, pajama pants, and the bravest face I had ever seen.
“She said Maya was stupid. She said Dad wished we were easier. She said if we told, Dad would send us to boarding school.”
Elaine blinked.
“That’s not true.”
Maya appeared behind him.
“She locked Bunny in the pantry.”
Elaine looked confused.
“What?”
Maya’s lower lip trembled.
“When I cried.”
Rachel put a hand over her mouth.
I felt the world tilt again.
There was more.
Of course there was more.
I crouched at the bottom of the porch steps.
“Maya, sweetheart, did Victoria lock your bunny away?”
Maya nodded.
“And me.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
Ethan turned pale.
“She told me not to tell.”
Rachel whispered, “Oh my God.”
Officer Daniels stepped forward.
“Maya, did Victoria lock you in the pantry?”
Maya hid behind Ethan.
Ethan answered for her.
“When Dad was at work. If Maya cried too loud.”
Elaine started shaking her head.
“No. No, Victoria would never—”
I turned on her.
“Leave.”
“But—”
“Leave before I forget there are police here.”
Officer Daniels escorted her away from the property.
I walked to the door slowly, afraid of frightening my children with the size of my rage.
Ethan looked ashamed.
“I should’ve told.”
I dropped to my knees.
“No.”
“I knew about the pantry.”
“Ethan.”
“She said if I told, she’d lock Maya longer next time.”
I pulled him into my arms.
“You were trying to protect her.”
“I didn’t.”
“You did. Yesterday, you did.”
Maya squeezed between us.
“Ethan saved me.”
He cried then.
Big, painful sobs.
The kind he had probably swallowed for months.
I held them both on the porch while neighbors pretended not to stare.
That night, after the kids fell asleep in my bed, I searched the pantry.
At first, I saw nothing.
Then I noticed scratches near the inside of the door.
Tiny lines.
At child height.
My knees gave out.
I sat on the kitchen floor and pressed my fist against my mouth to keep from waking them.
Rachel found me there.
May you like
She saw the scratches.
Then she sat beside me and cried too.
