Chapter 4 - THE DRAWER
Rachel’s house was locked, and Daniel had no legal right to enter it without her written permission. Ms. Torres helped arrange for Rachel to sign a release, then drove him there herself.
The red-tagged key opened a narrow drawer beneath the kitchen counter.
Inside were Noah’s school pictures, a stack of unopened letters from Daniel, and a folder labeled FAMILY.
Daniel opened the first letter. He had written it on Noah’s eighth birthday.
I still remember the day you learned to ride your bike. You kept shouting, “Don’t let go,” and then you realized you were already going on your own.
There were sixteen letters. Noah had received none of them.
The folder held a copy of an emergency guardianship petition. Rachel’s name was signed at the bottom, though she could barely move her right hand after the stroke. Melissa had submitted the petition three days later.
Ms. Torres photographed the papers. “We need a family attorney.”
Daniel turned another page and froze.
Attached to the petition was a sworn statement claiming Noah was afraid of him. It described threats Daniel had supposedly made from prison.
“I never spoke to him on the phone,” Daniel said. “They canceled our calls after Rachel got sick.”
At the bottom of the statement was Noah’s name, written in careful block letters.
The front door opened.
May you like
Melissa stood in the hallway, her keys still in her hand.
“That drawer,” she said, “is private.”
