Chapter 3 - THE ADDRESS
Daniel’s sister had lived in the same yellow house for eleven years. By noon, he was standing on its porch, knocking on a door with a new lock.
A neighbor came out carrying groceries.
“Rachel moved?” Daniel asked.
The woman stopped. “You must be Daniel.”
“Where is she?”
The neighbor glanced at the street. “She went to the hospital in March. I saw an ambulance. After that, a woman started coming by to clear the place out.”
“Melissa Grant?”
“That’s her.”
Daniel called the hospital. They would not give him information over the phone. His parole officer, Ms. Torres, agreed to meet him there after he explained why he had left his approved route.
“Next time, call me first,” she said when she arrived. “I can help you stay out of trouble. I can’t help if you disappear.”
Rachel had suffered a stroke. She was alive, alert, and receiving care at a facility forty minutes away. Melissa had been hired to help her with paperwork while she recovered.
“That doesn’t explain how Melissa got Noah,” Daniel said.
At the facility, Rachel cried when she saw him. Speech came slowly, but she managed to say, “I never agreed.”
“To what?”
“To Noah living with her.”
Ms. Torres pulled a chair closer. “Do you remember signing anything?”
Rachel shook her head. “She brought forms. Said they were for my bills.”
Daniel felt his jaw lock. “Where are the forms?”
May you like
Rachel reached for his hand and pressed something small into it: a key with a red plastic tag.
“Kitchen drawer,” she whispered. “Before she finds it.”
