Chapter 1
The first time Maya screamed that night, I thought she had fallen out of bed.
The second time, I knew something was wrong.
I ran upstairs and found my eight-year-old daughter curled into a ball beside her pillow, both arms wrapped around her stomach.
“Daddy.”
Her voice barely came out.
I dropped beside the bed.
“What hurts?”
“My tummy.”
Her face was pale.
Sweat covered her forehead.
I touched her cheek.
She was burning.
Behind me, Claire appeared in the doorway.
My wife looked annoyed instead of frightened.
“She’s fine.”
I turned.
“Fine?”
“She ate too much junk at school.”
Maya made another small sound.
I looked back at her.
“Where does it hurt?”
She pointed toward the lower right side of her stomach.
The second my fingers moved near it, she cried out.
That was enough.
“We’re going to the hospital.”
Claire immediately stepped into the room.
“Daniel, don’t be ridiculous.”
I stared at her.
“Our daughter can barely move.”
“She does this.”
“No, she doesn’t.”
“She wants attention.”
Maya’s eyes filled.
“I don’t.”
I lifted her carefully.
She clung to my neck.
Then something strange happened.
As I carried her toward the stairs, Maya looked at the small purple backpack hanging from her desk chair.
“My bag.”
“We don’t need it.”
“Yes.”
Her fingers tightened around my shirt.
“Please, Daddy. Bring my backpack.”
Claire froze.
It lasted less than a second.
But I saw it.
“Why?” she asked.
Maya immediately looked down.
“I want it.”
Claire walked toward the chair.
“I’ll keep it here.”
“No!”
Maya screamed so suddenly that I stopped.
“Don’t let Mommy take it.”
The hallway went silent.
Claire stared at her.
I stared at Claire.
“What does that mean?”
Maya buried her face in my shoulder.
Claire forced a laugh.
“She’s sick. She doesn’t know what she’s saying.”
I picked up the backpack.
Claire reached for it.
“I’ll carry it.”
“I’ve got it.”
“Daniel.”
“I said I’ve got it.”
Her face tightened.
For a moment, I saw something in my wife I had never noticed before.
Fear.
The drive to the emergency room took twelve minutes.
It felt like an hour.
Maya lay across the back seat, whimpering.
Claire sat beside her.
I watched them through the mirror.
Every few minutes, Claire glanced at the backpack beside me.
Not Maya.
The bag.
At the hospital, the nurse took one look at Maya and moved quickly.
A wheelchair appeared.
Vitals.
Questions.
A doctor.
Claire kept answering for her.
“She probably ate something.”
“She gets dramatic.”
“She was completely normal earlier.”
Maya barely spoke.
Then the nurse said,
“We need to take her back for imaging.”
I lifted the backpack.
Claire stood.
“I’ll hold that.”
Maya suddenly grabbed the nurse’s wrist.
“Please.”
The nurse crouched.
“What is it, sweetheart?”
Maya’s eyes went straight to Claire.
“Don’t let Mommy take my backpack.”
Everything inside me went cold.
The nurse looked at me.
Then Claire.
Claire laughed nervously.
“She has a diary in there. She’s embarrassed.”
Maya shook her head violently.
“No.”
Claire moved forward.
“Maya, enough.”
My daughter flinched.
I had never seen her flinch from her mother before.
The nurse stood.
“Mrs. Carter, please step back.”
Claire’s face changed.
“That’s my daughter’s property.”
“And she has asked that you not take it.”
Claire reached toward me.
“Daniel, give it here.”
“No.”
Her voice dropped.
“Now.”
I stared at her.
“What is inside this backpack?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why do you care?”
“I don’t.”
“You’ve been staring at it since we left the house.”
“You’re imagining things.”
Maya started crying.
The nurse gently moved her wheelchair backward.
Then Claire lunged.
Not at Maya.
At the backpack.
Her fingers caught one strap.
I jerked it away.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Give it to me!”
Two nurses moved between us.
A security officer stepped into the room.
Claire stopped.
Everyone stared at her.
Her chest rose and fell quickly.
Then she smiled.
“I’m sorry.”
No one smiled back.
The doctor appeared.
“We need to take Maya now.”
I handed the backpack to the nurse.
“Keep it with her.”
Claire looked at me.
“Daniel.”
“No.”
Her jaw tightened.
The doors closed behind Maya.
Claire and I stood in the hallway.
“What is in there?”
“Nothing.”
“Stop saying that.”
She folded her arms.
“You’re turning this into something it isn’t.”
I stepped closer.
“Our daughter begged a stranger to protect her belongings from you.”
Claire looked away.
“That doesn’t happen for no reason.”
“She’s confused.”
“Is she?”
Claire didn’t answer.
Twenty minutes later, the doctor returned.
His expression was serious.
“Maya has acute appendicitis.”
My stomach dropped.
“Does she need surgery?”
“Yes.”
Claire whispered,
“Appendicitis?”
The doctor looked at her.
“Her appendix is significantly inflamed. We’re fortunate she was brought in tonight.”
I felt anger rise.
Claire had wanted to leave her in bed.
“How long has she been hurting?”
The doctor asked.
I looked at Claire.
“She said this started tonight.”
Maya’s voice came from behind the curtain.
“No.”
We all turned.
A nurse was wheeling her toward us.
Maya looked exhausted.
“It started Monday.”
It was Thursday.
I stared at her.
“Monday?”
She nodded.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Her eyes moved toward Claire.
“I told Mommy.”
Claire went pale.
The doctor’s face hardened slightly.
I looked at my wife.
“You knew?”
“She said her stomach hurt.”
“For four days?”
“I thought she was exaggerating.”
Maya whispered,
“I asked to call Daddy.”
Claire looked at her.
“Maya.”
The nurse stepped closer.
“Mrs. Carter.”
Claire went quiet.
My hands started shaking.
Before I could say anything else, Maya pointed weakly toward the backpack.
“Daddy.”
I walked to her.
“What?”
“Open the front pocket.”
Claire moved instantly.
“No.”
Security blocked her.
“Ma’am, stay back.”
I unzipped the front pocket.
Inside were crayons.
A small stuffed keychain.
Two folded worksheets.
Then my fingers touched something hard.
A tiny digital voice recorder.
I stared at it.
Claire stopped breathing.
“Maya?”
My daughter began crying.
“I recorded Mommy because nobody believed me.”
My chest tightened.
“Recorded what?”
She covered her face.
“Her giving me the medicine.”
The room went silent.
I looked at Claire.
She shook her head.
“Daniel, she’s confused.”
My fingers trembled as I turned on the recorder.
There were several files.
I pressed the most recent.
Static filled the room.
Then Maya’s voice.
“My stomach still hurts.”
Claire’s voice answered.
Sharp.
Cold.
“Then take it.”
“I don’t want it.”
“You want Daddy coming home and making everything difficult?”
“No.”
“Then drink.”
A pause.
Maya crying.
Then Claire again.
“And don’t tell him. Understand?”
I looked up.
My wife had gone completely white.
The recording continued.
Maya whispered,
“What is it?”
Claire replied,
“It’s just medicine.”
Then another voice came through.
A man.
Faint.
But unmistakable.
“Claire, you said the kid would be asleep by now.”
My entire body froze.
Because I knew that voice.
May you like
It belonged to my younger brother.
Evan.
