Chapter 3 - NUMBER TWENTY-THREE

Megan opened her front door wearing pajama pants and holding a glass of wine.

Then she saw our faces.

The wine hit the counter.

“What happened?”

“Can we come in?”

She pulled us inside.

Lily and Noah knew her house. They had slept there before, eaten too much ice cream there, watched movies until midnight there.

But that night, they stood in her living room like guests waiting to be told where they were allowed to sit.

Megan noticed too.

She looked at me.

I shook my head.

Not yet.

She crouched.

“Hey, monsters. Want pizza?”

Noah looked at Lily.

Lily looked at me.

“You don’t have to ask,” I said.

Noah’s face crumpled.

“I want pepperoni.”

Megan blinked fast and turned toward the kitchen.

“Pepperoni it is.”

After they ate, we sat around Megan’s dining table.

I put my phone in the middle.

Recording.

Not secretly.

I told them exactly why.

“You don’t have to tell me everything tonight. But whatever you do tell me, I want to remember it correctly.”

Lily nodded.

Noah hugged his dinosaur.

“Tell me about the rules.”

Lily took a breath.

“Rule one is don’t wake Mom up.”

“Okay.”

“Rule two is don’t go in the kitchen unless she says.”

“Rule three,” Noah added, “is don’t tell her you’re hungry more than once.”

Megan turned toward the sink.

I saw her shoulders shake.

“Rule four?”

“Don’t cry where she can hear.”

My throat closed.

Lily kept going.

“Don’t run. Don’t slam doors. Don’t ask when you’re going to be home. Don’t call you unless she says. Don’t tell teachers family stuff.”

“What happens if you break a rule?”

They both went quiet.

“Guys?”

Noah whispered, “Points.”

“What points?”

Lily spoke.

“Bad points.”

Every broken rule got a point.

Enough points meant a punishment.

No dessert.

No television.

Standing in the laundry room.

Holding books straight out in front of them until their arms hurt.

Sitting alone in the dark hallway.

I stopped her.

“The dark hallway?”

“She turns off the lights.”

“For how long?”

“I don’t know.”

“How long, Lily?”

“She sets a timer.”

“For how long?”

“Sometimes ten minutes.”

I exhaled.

“Sometimes?”

“Sometimes she starts it over.”

Megan slammed a cabinet.

“Jesus Christ.”

Lily jumped.

Megan immediately came back.

“I’m sorry, honey. I’m not mad at you.”

“I know.”

But Lily’s body said she didn’t.

I rubbed my hands over my face.

“Why didn’t I see any of this?”

Lily answered without hesitation.

“Because she has different rules when you’re home.”

I stared at her.

“What’s rule twenty-three?”

Lily’s face changed.

Noah buried his face in the dinosaur.

“Lily?”

She looked at Megan.

Then at me.

“Rule twenty-three is the important one.”

“What is it?”

“If Dad starts asking questions, cry.”

I couldn’t speak.

“Why?”

“So you’ll think we’re upset because you’re asking.”

My stomach twisted.

“And if that didn’t work?”

Lily whispered:

“Then we had to say you scared us.”

Megan sat down hard.

I stared at my daughter.

“Did she ever make you say that to anyone?”

Lily nodded.

“Who?”

She looked at me.

“Mrs. Avery.”

I knew that name.

Lily’s school counselor.

“What did you tell her?”

Lily’s eyes filled again.

“I told her you yelled a lot.”

“I don’t—”

“I know.”

She reached across the table and touched my hand.

“I’m sorry, Daddy.”

I squeezed her fingers.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

My phone buzzed.

A text from Claire.

YOU HAVE THIRTY MINUTES TO BRING MY CHILDREN HOME.

Then another.

AFTER THAT, I CALL THE POLICE.

Then a third.

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