Chapter 7
We were at the police station by eight a.m.
Jenna was already there, waiting for us with three thick binders and a very large coffee. She looked like she hadn’t slept either.
Detective Alvarez was assigned to our case.
He was in his late forties, with a face like worn leather and eyes that missed nothing. He read through the evidence in silence. The medical reports. The diaries. The texts. He watched Claire’s video twice.
When he finished, he leaned back in his chair and looked at me.
“Why didn’t you come forward two years ago?” he asked.
“Because I didn’t know,” I said. “I believed them. They’re my family. I thought grief was making me imagine things. I didn’t find out the truth until last week. When my sister hit my daughter. When they thought I wasn’t listening and talked about what they’d done to Claire.”
He nodded. He’d heard that before. Family secrets festering for years, only coming out when someone new gets hurt.
“Okay,” he said. “Here’s what happens next. I’m going to open two investigations. One for felony child abuse against Rebecca Carter. One for negligent homicide—possibly murder—against Rebecca Carter, Linda Carter, and Robert Carter. I’m going to bring them in for questioning. Separately. One by one. People like your parents… they fold. They don’t have the stomach for this. Your sister is the dangerous one. She’ll lie. She’ll accuse. She’ll try to turn this around on you. But if your parents crack… we’ve got them all.”
He stood up.
“Go home. Be with your daughter. Try to live your life. I’ll be in touch. And Mr. Carter?”
“Yeah?”
“Get a guard dog. A big one. And keep those cameras rolling. If Rebecca did send those men to your house last night… she’s desperate. And desperate people do stupid things.”
We left the station.
Jenna had to go to court for another case. Mark had to get to work. I was alone with Lily for the first time all week.
We went to the zoo.
I didn’t want to be in the house. I didn’t want to be anywhere Rebecca might find us.
Lily loved the zoo. She laughed at the monkeys. She made faces at the giraffes. She rode the carousel twice. For a few hours, she was just a normal five-year-old girl. No bruises. No fear. No monsters in the family.
But I couldn’t relax.
I watched every person who came near us. Every woman with brown hair. Every car that slowed down. I kept my phone in my hand, waiting for Detective Alvarez to call.
He called at three p.m.
“Mr. Carter?”
“Yes.”
“We brought your mother in for questioning an hour ago. She folded in twenty minutes. Cried. Confessed everything. Said it was all Rebecca’s idea. That they were scared of her. That she’d threatened to tell people they’d abused her as a child if they didn’t do what she said.”
I stopped walking. Lily was ahead of me, chasing a butterfly.
“She’s testifying against Rebecca and your father,” Alvarez continued. “She’s given us sworn statements about the night Claire died. About the party last week. About every other time Rebecca hurt a child and they covered for her. She’s even given us names—three other kids Rebecca abused over the last ten years. We’re tracking down their families now.”
My mother had flipped.
Of course she had.
She’d always been a coward. When things got hard, she ran. Or she blamed someone else.
“What about Dad?” I asked.
“We’re bringing him in now. My guess? He folds too. He’s never been able to stand up to either of the women in his life. The only one who’s going to fight is Rebecca. And trust me… she’s going to fight dirty.”
He was right.
Because an hour later, my phone blew up.
Facebook notifications. Hundreds of them.
Rebecca had posted.
A long, rambling, tearful post.
*My heart is broken. My brother Daniel, who I have loved and protected my whole life, has lost his mind since his wife died. He is abusing his precious daughter Lily. He has bruises all over her body. And now he is trying to blame ME for his crimes. He has threatened to kill me and my parents. I am terrified for my life. I am terrified for Sophie. I am terrified for little Lily. If anything happens to me or my family, you will know who did it. Please share this. Please help me expose this monster before it’s too late.*
Attached were photos.
Photos of Lily’s bruises. The same ones Dr. Henderson had taken. But cropped. Taken out of context.
And a photo of me from the party. My face was red. I was angry. I looked crazy.
Comments were pouring in.
*Oh my god, I knew there was something wrong with him!*
*Poor Lily! Someone call CPS!*
*I always thought Claire’s death was suspicious…*
*Lock him up and throw away the key!*
People I’d known my whole life were sharing it. Friends. Neighbors. Even distant cousins.
My phone rang. A number I didn’t recognize.
“Mr. Carter?” a woman’s voice said. “This is Samantha from Child Protective Services. I need to come to your house immediately. We’ve received multiple reports of severe child abuse. I need to speak to you and examine your daughter.”
Of course.
Rebecca had called them.
Probably fifty times.
“Ms. Carter,” I said. “My lawyer is Jenna Marlow. She can meet us at my house in forty minutes. Until she arrives, I will not be answering any questions. And my daughter will not be examined without her lawyer present. Is that clear?”
The CPS worker was quiet for a second. Most people didn’t know their rights.
“That’s… that’s fine, Mr. Carter. We’ll see you in forty minutes.”
I called Jenna. She was on her way before I finished explaining.
I called Mark. He left work immediately.
I picked Lily up from where she was drawing in the dirt.
“Come on, baby,” I said. “We’re going home.”
“Are we having a party?” she asked, sensing my tension.
“Something like that.”
We got home. Jenna was already there, leaning against her car, looking furious. Mark pulled up right behind us.
“Show me the post,” Jenna said.
I showed her.
She read it. She laughed. It was a dangerous sound.
“Stupid,” she said. “So stupid. She just gave us everything. This is witness tampering. This is defamation. This is filing a false police report. This is interference with a criminal investigation. Every share, every comment… it’s just more evidence against her. She thinks she’s winning. She just dug her own grave.”
The CPS worker arrived ten minutes later.
She was young. Nervous. She’d clearly seen the Facebook post. She looked at me like I was already a monster.
Jenna didn’t let her get a word in.
She handed the CPS worker a binder. Thick. Heavy.
“Everything you need is in there,” Jenna said. “Medical reports proving the bruises were inflicted by Rebecca Carter. Sworn testimony from a witness who saw Rebecca abuse another child. Police reports. Text messages where Rebecca admits she’s going to file false CPS reports to get custody. A video from the child’s mother, recorded the night before she died, stating she was afraid Rebecca would harm her and her daughter. And Detective Alvarez’s card—he’s the lead homicide detective investigating Rebecca Carter for the murder of Claire Carter. Call him. He’ll confirm everything.”
The CPS worker flipped through the binder. Her eyes got wider and wider.
She looked at me. Then at Lily, who was coloring on the couch, perfectly happy, perfectly safe.
She closed the binder.
“I think I have everything I need,” she said quietly. “I’ll be closing this case as unfounded. And I’ll be filing my own report against Rebecca Carter for making a false report. That’s a felony in this state.”
She left.
Jenna turned to me.
“Now we respond,” she said. “We post the truth. All of it. The video. The diaries. The medical reports. Everything. We let the people of Austin decide who the real monster is.”
She looked at Mark.
“Can you handle the tech side? Post it everywhere. Facebook. YouTube. Reddit. Local news sites. Make sure it goes viral before Rebecca’s lawyers can get it taken down.”
“Already on it,” Mark said, pulling out his laptop.
Within an hour, Claire’s video was everywhere.
People watched.
People shared.
People cried.
The comments on Rebecca’s post started to change.
*Oh my god… this is the woman from the video.*
*She let her sister-in-law die? And hit that little girl?*
*Rebecca Carter is a monster.*
*I went to school with her. She was always mean. This doesn’t surprise me at all.*
Rebecca’s post was deleted three hours later.
But it was too late.
The truth was out.
And it was spreading faster than any lie she could tell.
That night, Detective Alvarez called again.
“Your father confessed,” he said. “Everything. He backed up your mother’s story. He says Rebecca controlled all of them for years. That they were terrified of her. We’re issuing warrants for all three tonight. Your parents are cooperating, so they’ll get bail. But Rebecca… no bail. She’s a flight risk. And a danger to the community. By this time tomorrow, she’ll be in a cell.”
I hung up.
I looked at Lily. She was asleep on the couch, Mr. Floppy tucked under her arm.
May you like
It was almost over.
Almost.
