Chapter 9 - They Came for My Daughter
The CPS investigator’s name was Monica Reed.
She was calm.
Professional.
And terrifying simply because of why she was standing in my house.
“I understand this is upsetting,” she said.
“No,” I replied. “You don’t.”
Ben touched my arm.
Not to silence me.
To remind me to think.
Monica asked to see Lily privately.
I hated it.
But I agreed.
While they talked in the living room, I sat at the kitchen table staring at the same spot for twenty minutes.
Ben leaned toward me.
“This is exactly what Vanessa wants.”
“I know.”
“She wants you angry.”
“I know.”
“She wants you refusing interviews.”
“I know.”
“Then stay smart.”
I looked at him.
“She accused me of hurting my daughter.”
“And we’re going to prove she lied.”
When Monica returned, she asked about discipline.
School.
Medical care.
Sarah’s death.
Vanessa.
The birthday party.
I answered everything.
Then she asked, “Have you ever struck Lily?”
“No.”
“Spanked her?”
“No.”
“Grabbed her hard enough to leave marks?”
“No.”
“Has anyone?”
My eyes moved toward the stairs.
“I don’t know.”
That was the worst answer.
Because it was true.
I had trusted Vanessa.
I had left them alone together.
Monica interviewed Claire.
Then Lily’s teacher.
Then my parents.
She inspected Lily’s room.
Her food.
Her clothes.
Her school records.
Before leaving, she closed her folder.
“I can’t discuss conclusions today.”
“Is she staying with me?”
“Yes.”
I finally breathed.
“But the investigation remains open.”
After she left, I sat on the kitchen floor.
Lily came over.
“Daddy?”
“Yeah?”
“Are they mad at me?”
I pulled her into my lap.
“No.”
“Did I say something wrong?”
“No.”
She touched my face.
“Are you crying?”
I hadn’t noticed I was.
“A little.”
She wrapped both arms around my neck.
“I won’t let them take you.”
That broke me.
I held her tighter.
“I’m supposed to say that to you.”
That night, Ben called.
“We got information on the complaint.”
“Vanessa?”
“The report was anonymous.”
“Of course.”
“But the caller knew details.”
“What details?”
“Your work schedule. Lily’s school. Sarah’s death.”
“So Vanessa.”
“Probably.”
Then Ben paused.
“There’s more.”
“What?”
“The caller claimed there are bruises on Lily’s upper arm.”
I stood.
“She doesn’t have bruises.”
“Check.”
I went upstairs.
Lily was brushing her teeth.
“Baby, can I see your arm?”
She pulled up her sleeve.
Nothing on the right.
I checked the left.
Three yellow-purple marks sat above her elbow.
My stomach turned.
“Lily.”
She looked at them.
“Oh.”
“How did this happen?”
She went quiet.
“Tell me.”
“Vanessa grabbed me.”
“When?”
“At the store.”
“What store?”
“The wedding dress place.”
That had been two weeks earlier.
“Why did she grab you?”
“I said I didn’t like my flower-girl dress.”
I closed my eyes.
“Did she tell you not to tell me?”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
Lily’s voice dropped.
“She said if I told you, she would tell everybody I hurt myself because I’m crazy.”
I nearly got sick.
Then Lily said one more thing.
“She took a picture of the bruises.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“She said she needed it.”
Suddenly I understood.
Vanessa hadn’t simply reported bruises.
She had created the bruises.
May you like
Photographed them.
Then waited for the right moment to use them.
