Chapter 11 - She Took Something More Important Than Money
Vanessa’s apartment was empty.
Her phone was off.
Her car had been found in an airport parking garage.
But there was no record of her boarding a flight.
Police told me not to panic.
That is what people say when panic is already eating through your chest.
“She knows where Lily goes to school,” I said.
“We’ve notified the school.”
“She knows my parents’ house.”
“They’ve been contacted.”
“She knows everything.”
The detective nodded.
“We’re taking that seriously.”
I stopped sending Lily to school.
For three days, she stayed with me or Claire.
I barely slept.
Every car outside made me look through the blinds.
Every unknown number made my pulse jump.
Then on Friday morning, my bank called.
Twenty-eight thousand dollars had been transferred from the wedding account.
Vanessa had moved it two days before Lily’s birthday.
Before the cake.
Before the breakup.
Before everything.
“She knew,” I told Ben.
“She knew something was coming.”
Maybe not exactly how.
But she had prepared to leave.
That afternoon, CPS called.
The investigation into me was closing.
No evidence of abuse.
Vanessa’s storage-unit files had been turned over.
Monica’s voice softened.
“Mr. Bennett, I’m sorry your daughter was put through this.”
I thanked her.
Then I sat alone in my car and cried for five straight minutes.
Not because I had won.
Because Lily should never have needed an investigation to prove she was safe with her own father.
When I got home, Claire met me at the door.
“You need to see this.”
She showed me an email.
From Vanessa.
Sent to me.
Subject: YOU CHOSE WRONG.
There was no long message.
Only one sentence.
You picked Lily, so live with what happens next.
Attached was a photograph.
Lily sleeping.
My blood went cold.
The picture had been taken through a window.
Recently.
Very recently.
Because Lily was wearing the blue pajamas I had bought her two nights earlier.
I called the police.
Then I ran upstairs.
Lily was safe.
Watching a movie.
I checked every window.
Every lock.
Every camera.
Nothing.
Then the detective called.
“Mark, the photo contains metadata.”
“Meaning?”
“Location data.”
“Where?”
He hesitated.
“Your house.”
“I know it’s my house.”
“No. I mean the photo was uploaded to the email from your home network.”
I stopped moving.
“That’s impossible.”
“Someone connected to your Wi-Fi.”
I looked around the room.
The router.
The windows.
The hallway.
Then I remembered something.
Vanessa had installed a smart home hub months earlier.
Locks.
Lights.
Cameras.
She had set up the administrator account.
I ran to the wall panel.
The screen flashed.
May you like
CONNECTED REMOTELY.
Then the front door unlocked by itself.
