Chapter 2 - The Blue Door
Damon read the note twice.
Elisa reached for it.
“What is that?”
He folded it before she could see.
“A reason to find her mother.”
Nora moved behind his leg.
That small movement settled something.
Whatever was happening, this child would not be passed from one stranger to another while adults protected the evening.
Damon waved over the event coordinator, a woman with a headset and tired eyes.
“Your name?”
“June.”
“Stay here with us.
Get Nora water and something warm to eat.”
“Absolutely.”
Elisa lowered her voice.
“You’re encouraging a situation you don’t understand.”
“Then explain it.”
“A worker was removed for theft.”
“What worker?”
“Mara Bell.”
Nora’s plate shook.
“My mom doesn’t steal.”
Damon crouched again.
“Nora, June is going to sit with you at that table.
I’ll be right over there.
You’ll be able to see me.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
He waited until June had settled beside her before turning away.
“Who removed Mara?”
“Our security contractor.”
“Where did they take her?”
“I wasn’t supervising every doorway.”
“You knew her name awfully fast.”
Elisa’s jaw tightened.
Behind them, the quartet cautiously began playing again.
Damon turned toward the musicians.
“Please stop.”
The first violinist lowered his bow.
“This event is paused.”
A ripple passed through the guests.
Elisa stared at him.
“You cannot shut down a foundation gala because a worker brought her child somewhere she wasn’t allowed.”
“It’s my property.
Watch me.”
At the blue service door, they found a young dishwasher wiping down a cart.
Damon asked about Mara.
The boy looked at Elisa before answering.
That was answer enough.
“Elisa,” Damon said, “wait outside.”
“This is absurd.”
“Outside.”
When she finally stepped away, the dishwasher stopped pretending to clean.
“They took her through the loading entrance,” he whispered.
“Who?”
“Two security guys.
She kept saying to check the delivery numbers.”
“Did she ask for the police?”
“Yeah.”
“And?”
The boy swallowed.
“One of them said the police weren’t coming.”
He led Damon past stacked chairs and empty produce crates.
Under the loading counter sat a woman’s canvas bag.
Beside it lay a pair of small sneakers.
Nora hadn’t arrived barefoot.
She had left her shoes behind when she went looking for help.
Damon crouched to pick them up.
A phone vibrated inside the bag.
The screen was cracked.
An incoming call lit it.
UNKNOWN NUMBER.
He answered.
May you like
A woman breathed hard into the receiver.
“Please tell me my daughter is still there.”
