Chapter 2 - The Rules
At the emergency department, Lily apologized for the milk.
She apologized while a nurse checked her arm.
She apologized when Noah cried.
She apologized when Nathan asked whether she wanted water.
Finally, he sat beside her on the examination table.
“You don’t have to apologize for being here.”
“Vanessa says things cost money.”
“We have money for taking care of you.”
“She says you get tired because of us.”
Nathan looked down.
He had said he was tired.
At breakfast.
Over dinner.
On the phone with clients.
Ordinary complaints, tossed into the air without thought.
Someone had gathered them and handed them to his daughter like bills she owed.
A pediatrician named Dr. Ruiz asked to speak with Lily privately.
Nathan agreed.
In the hallway, he called his older sister, Beth.
She answered on the second ring.
“What happened?”
He hadn’t said anything yet.
“How do you know something happened?”
“You never call at this hour.”
He leaned against the wall.
“Can you come to County General?”
Beth was there in nineteen minutes.
She found him sitting with his elbows on his knees.
“Tell me.”
He did.
The hanger.
The children.
Claire.
Beth closed her eyes.
Then she sat beside him.
“Four years,” Nathan said. “I’ve spent four years telling myself I gave Lily a stable home.”
“You can deal with what you missed after you make them safe.”
Dr. Ruiz joined them.
She spoke carefully.
Lily had some bruising that required documentation.
Noah had no serious injuries.
A hospital social worker would help with the next steps.
“We also need to make a report,” the doctor said.
Nathan nodded.
“Do whatever you need to do.”
His phone vibrated.
VANESSA.
Then again.
Then a message.
You are frightening our son. Bring him home.
Another followed.
Lily needs help. I have been telling you that.
Nathan turned the screen facedown.
When the social worker brought Lily out, she held a folded sheet of paper.
“She wanted to show you something.”
Lily opened it.
Five rules, printed in large, careful letters.
DON’T WAKE DADDY.
DON’T TOUCH MOM’S THINGS.
DON’T TELL BETH.
DON’T MAKE NOAH CRY.
DON’T TALK ABOUT THE OLD HOUSE.
Nathan stared at the last line.
“Who made these rules?”
“Vanessa.”
“How long have you had them?”
Lily shrugged.
“Since I remembered.”
“Remembered what?”
Her fingers tightened on the paper.
“The red stairs. And Mommy’s shoe.”
Beth moved closer.
“What shoe, honey?”
“The silver one.”
Nathan felt the hallway tilt.
Claire had worn silver flats the night she died.
They had been a gift from him.
He had never described them to Lily.
He had put them out of his mind because one had been recovered from the wreck, and the other had never been found.
His phone lit up again.
This time, Vanessa had sent a photograph.
It showed an old cardboard box on their bed.
CLAIRE, written across the lid in Nathan’s handwriting.
May you like
Underneath it was one sentence.
Come home before you make a mistake you can’t fix.
