apter 3: Lena Monroe
apter 3: Lena Monroe
After leaving Harper with the school counselor, I called the hospital and said I wouldn’t be coming in.
Then I searched Clara’s name.
Nothing unusual appeared at first.
Business articles.
Charity events.
Photographs of fundraisers.
Clara Monroe had built a career helping wealthy families manage private foundations. Every picture showed the same composed woman I had married.
Then I searched for fires involving the Monroe family.
The article appeared on the third page.
HOUSE FIRE CLAIMS TEENAGE GIRL IN BOULDER COUNTY.
The victim was fourteen-year-old Lena Monroe.
Clara’s stepdaughter.
Not her biological daughter.
The report said the fire began in Lena’s bedroom. Investigators believed she had been playing with candles after midnight.
Clara’s former husband, Daniel Monroe, had been away on business.
Clara escaped with two-year-old Harper.
Lena’s body was never recovered.
That detail made no sense.
A fire hot enough to destroy a body would have destroyed the photograph Harper carried.
I searched Daniel Monroe.
He had died eight months after the fire.
Single-vehicle accident.
His car had left a mountain road during a snowstorm.
Two family tragedies in less than a year.
Clara inherited everything.
I called the Boulder County fire investigator listed in the old article.
He had retired, but the department gave me a forwarding number.
His name was Frank Wallace.
The moment I mentioned Lena Monroe, he went silent.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“Clara’s husband.”
Another silence.
“You married her?”
“Yes.”
“Does the little girl still live with her?”
My stomach tightened.
“Harper? Yes.”
Wallace exhaled slowly.
“Meet me somewhere public.”
“Why?”
“Because I never believed Lena died in that fire.”
My grip tightened around the phone.
“Then what happened to her?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did you find?”
“Evidence that someone poured accelerant in the hallway outside Lena’s room.”
“Was Clara investigated?”
“She had a child in her arms, smoke in her lungs, and a dead stepdaughter. People saw a grieving mother.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Wallace’s voice became quiet.
“Because before the fire, Lena called child services three times.”
My skin went cold.
“What did she report?”
“Abuse.”
May you like
“Against whom?”
“Clara.”
