Chapter 6: Taken Again

Chapter 6: Taken Again

The social worker’s name was Helen Myers.

She entered Lily’s hospital room with two officers and a court order.

“This is temporary,” she said. “Until the allegations against both guardians are investigated.”

“Both guardians?” I asked. “Victoria is the one who hurt her.”

“Mrs. Hale claims you created an unsafe environment through neglect and prolonged absence.”

“I was traveling for work.”

“For sixty-seven days.”

The number struck me harder than it should have.

Sixty-seven days.

I had missed Lily’s calls for sixty-seven days.

Victoria had exploited my absence, but I had still been absent.

Lily gripped my hand.

“I’m not leaving with strangers.”

Helen softened.

“You’ll be placed with a licensed emergency caregiver.”

“No.”

“Lily—”

“My father came back for me.”

Her voice cracked.

“I’m not losing him again.”

I wanted to fight the order. I wanted to lock the door and refuse to let anyone touch her.

But Warren pulled me aside.

“If you resist, Victoria’s lawyers will use it. Cooperate tonight. We’ll challenge the order tomorrow.”

I knelt in front of Lily.

“This is only for one night.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

She searched my face.

“You promised you’d call every day from America.”

The words cut deeper than anger ever could.

“I know.”

“You didn’t.”

“I know.”

Tears filled her eyes.

“What if something happens again?”

I looked directly at Helen.

“Nothing will happen.”

But something did.

At 2:13 a.m., Helen called me.

Lily was missing.

The foster home’s back door had been forced open.

The caregiver had been drugged.

And the security camera showed a black van taking Lily away.

The vehicle was registered to a company owned by Daniel’s brother.

Victoria and Daniel were both supposedly under police supervision.

Yet somehow, Lily had been taken.

Again.

Warren organized roadblocks.

I opened every tracking system my company owned.

Lily’s phone was destroyed, but months earlier I had given her a silver bracelet with an emergency locator. She hated wearing it and usually left it in her drawer.

That night, the signal appeared.

Thirty miles north of the city.

Blackwood Behavioral Center.

The same clinic where Victoria had planned to imprison her.

Warren called for backup.

I grabbed my coat.

“You stay here,” he ordered.

“That’s my daughter.”

“This could be dangerous.”

“She spent sixty-seven days calling for me.”

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I walked toward the door.

“I’m not making her wait one more minute.”