Chapter 4
We got home at nine.
I carried Chloe up to her room, changed her into her pajamas, tucked her in. I sat on the edge of her bed until her breathing went deep and even, until I was sure she was asleep.
Then I went downstairs.
Meredith was sitting on the couch in the dark. Her phone was in her hand, the screen glowing blue on her face.
It was ringing.
Richard’s name was on the caller ID.
She looked up at me, her eyes wide. Scared.
“He’s calling. What do I do? If I don’t answer, he’ll get suspicious. He’ll know we told someone—”
“Give me the phone.”
I held out my hand.
She hesitated for half a second. Then she passed it over.
I answered.
I didn’t say hello.
“Richard,” I said. My voice was low, cold, deadly calm.
There was a beat of silence on the other end.
Then that familiar, fake-jovial voice I’d hated for ten years came down the line.
“Harry! Hey, buddy! Mer’s phone went straight to voicemail earlier. Was wondering if you guys made it to the recital okay? How’d my little pianist do? I was so bummed my back kept me from coming—”
“Cut the crap,” I said.
He stopped.
“Excuse me?”
“I know what you did to Chloe,” I said. “I saw the bruises. I took the photos. We went to the hospital. We talked to the police. They’re on their way to your house right now.”
The silence on the other end was thick enough to cut.
Then his voice changed.
The nice grandpa act vanished. All that was left was cold, ugly, mean.
“That little liar,” he snarled. “She’s making it all up. She’s always been a dramatic little brat. You think a few playground scrapes are proof of anything? You’re making a huge mistake, Harrison. You turn my own daughter against me, you’ll regret it.”
I gripped the phone so hard I thought it would crack.
“If you ever come within a mile of my wife or my daughter again, I will kill you. Do you understand me? The cops are at your door now. Have fun explaining the handprints on an eight-year-old’s back.”
I hung up.
I threw the phone onto the couch.
Meredith was staring at me, her mouth open.
“He called her a liar,” she whispered. “He actually called her a liar. After everything he did.”
She started crying again. Hard, heaving sobs that shook her whole body.
“I remember now,” she gasped, between breaths. “When I was her age. He grabbed me just like that. Once I told my mom, and she said I was exaggerating. That I must have done something to deserve it. I buried it. I told myself it never happened. I let him do the same thing to my baby. I’m just like my mom. I’m a coward.”
I pulled her into my arms.
“You are not a coward,” I said. “You were hurt. You were brainwashed. But you chose Chloe tonight. That’s what matters. You chose her.”
Thirty minutes later, my phone rang.
Detective Ruiz.
“We picked him up,” she said. “He’s in custody for questioning. He’s denying everything, screaming that the girl is lying, that you’re framing him to get back at Meredith for some fight. But we took his hand prints. We’re running them against the measurements from the hospital. We’ll know by tomorrow if they match.”
I closed my eyes.
“Thank you,” I said.
I hung up.
I looked at Meredith.
“He’s in jail tonight,” I said. “He can’t hurt anyone tonight.”
She nodded.
May you like
But neither of us slept.
We sat on the couch all night, the lights on, watching the front door. Waiting.
