Chapter 4 - The Things I Hadn’t Seen
Hannah’s box sat on the top shelf of Emily’s closet.
At least, that was where I thought it sat.
It held a bracelet, birthday cards, a scarf that still faintly smelled like her perfume, and recordings she had made when the treatments stopped working.
One for each of Emily’s birthdays.
Hannah had died when our daughter was four.
I had promised her that Emily would never have to wonder whether she had been loved.
Now Emily sat in a church office asking whether those memories were in the trash.
“Why would Rebecca throw it away?”
Emily stared at her shoes.
“She said keeping it makes me sick.”
I closed my eyes.
“When did she say that?”
“A lot.”
There were footsteps outside.
A police officer appeared with Luke.
Officer Morgan introduced herself, then crouched near the doorway so she wasn’t standing over Emily.
“Your uncle says you had a scary morning.”
Emily looked at me.
“You can tell her,” I said.
Rebecca knocked once and entered without waiting.
“This is getting ridiculous.”
Officer Morgan stood.
“I need you to wait outside.”
“I’m his fiancée.”
“Outside.”
Rebecca looked at me, expecting help.
I gave her none.
When the door closed, Emily began picking at a loose thread on her dress.
“She said if I told Daddy, he’d be sad again.”
I leaned forward.
“Told me what?”
“That I wet the bed.”
There had been two accidents that spring.
Rebecca had told me Emily was embarrassed and wanted privacy.
“And about lunch,” Emily added.
“What about lunch?”
“Sometimes she said I could eat when I stopped asking about Mommy.”
Luke turned away.
His hands were shaking.
Officer Morgan’s voice stayed calm.
“Emily, did she ever hurt you?”
My daughter touched her wrist.
I had seen a bruise there two weeks earlier.
Rebecca had said she caught Emily before she fell off the porch.
“She squeezed me when I tried to call Grandma.”
I looked at my child and understood, with a sickening clarity, how many explanations I had accepted because they were easier than asking another question.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
Emily’s eyes filled.
“Am I in trouble?”
“No.
Never for telling me.”
Officer Morgan asked whether there were any messages, recordings, or other papers at home.
Emily nodded.
“Rebecca’s red folder.”
“Where is it?”
“In the kitchen drawer.”
Luke was already reaching for his keys when my phone buzzed.
May you like
A notification from our doorbell camera filled the screen.
Rebecca’s brother had just let himself into my house.
