Chapter 7 - DANIEL’S SECOND LIFE
I didn’t believe it.
Not at first.
Daniel was an architect.
He designed hotels.
He hated guns.
He complained when our smoke alarm chirped.
He wasn’t a criminal mastermind.
At least, that was what I had believed.
Sarah showed me the security still.
Daniel wore a dark jacket and baseball cap.
His face was clear.
“That’s him.”
Mark nodded.
“What’s in Rachel’s evidence box?”
“Old clothes. Letters. A diary fragment.”
“A diary?”
Sarah pulled the old inventory.
“Three pages recovered from her room.”
“What did they say?”
“They were sealed because she was a minor.”
“Can you access them?”
“Not anymore.”
Because Daniel had them.
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
A photograph appeared.
Daniel standing beside a parked car.
His hands raised.
Two men behind him.
Text underneath:
COME TO 1478 WILLOW CREEK ROAD. ALONE.
Then another message.
BRING YOUR MOTHER’S LETTER.
Mark reached for the phone.
“No.”
“That’s my husband.”
“That could be staged.”
“He looks terrified.”
“Daniel has lied to you repeatedly.”
“I know.”
Lily woke.
“Mommy?”
I immediately put the phone away.
“Hey, baby.”
“Are we going home?”
My throat tightened.
“Not yet.”
“I want my bed.”
“I know.”
She touched her damaged hair.
“Is Daddy mad at me?”
“No.”
“Because I told?”
I knelt beside her.
“You did nothing wrong.”
“Aunt Vanessa said Daddy would hate me.”
I froze.
“What?”
“She said if I told you about the camera, Daddy would leave.”
Mark and Sarah exchanged a look.
“What camera?” I asked.
Lily pointed to her stuffed rabbit.
The one Vanessa had given her three months earlier.
My skin prickled.
“Sweetheart, where is the camera?”
“In Bunny.”
I picked up the rabbit.
Mark cut open a seam beneath the bow.
Inside was a tiny black device.
A wireless camera.
Vanessa had placed a camera inside my daughter’s toy.
Sarah’s expression hardened.
“This changes everything.”
Then Lily said, “There’s another one.”
I stared at her.
“Where?”
“In Mommy’s room.”
My stomach dropped.
“When did Aunt Vanessa put it there?”
“She didn’t.”
May you like
Lily looked confused.
“Daddy did.”
