Chapter 3
Lily was discharged at three in the morning.
The doctor said she'd be physically fine. No permanent damage from the cold. But the words he said next would haunt me forever.
“The physical wounds heal quickly, Mr. Hayes. The psychological ones... those take much longer. She's going to need therapy. A lot of it. And she needs to be somewhere she feels completely safe.”
Somewhere safe.
That meant my apartment. Not the house on Aspen Ridge Lane. Not anywhere near Evelyn.
I carried Lily out to the truck, her small body warm now against my chest. She stirred when I buckled her in.
“Daddy?”
“I'm here, baby.”
“Are we going home?”
I paused.
Home.
For seven years, home had been that house with the white picket fence and the two-car garage. The house where her mother lived. The house where her grandmother had locked her in a freezer.
Not anymore.
“We're going to my place,” I said softly. “Just for a while.”
She nodded and fell back asleep.
My apartment was small—a two-bedroom on the third floor of an older building. Nothing like the house Taylor and I had shared. But it was mine. And it was safe.
I carried Lily to the guest room, tucked her in, and sat beside her until the sun came up. I didn't sleep. I couldn't. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her blue lips and frost-stiffened hoodie.
My phone rang at six a.m.
It was Taylor.
I stared at the screen for a long moment before answering.
“Where is she?” Her voice was frantic, panicked. “The police were here. They said you took Lily. They said—” She stopped, like she couldn't bring herself to say the words. “They said Evelyn put her in the freezer.”
I said nothing.
“Ethan?” Taylor's voice cracked. “Tell me it's not true. Tell me Lily is okay.”
“She's with me,” I said. My voice sounded colder than I intended. “She's safe.”
“Safe? Ethan, she's my daughter too. Why didn't you call me? Why didn't you—”
“Where were you, Taylor?”
Silence.
“Last night. When Lily was screaming in that garage. When Evelyn locked her in that freezer. Where were you?”
More silence. Then, so quiet I almost missed it:
“I was at a work thing. A late dinner with clients. I asked Mom to watch her for a few hours. I didn't know—I swear to God, I didn't know she would—” She broke down crying. “My own mother. How could she do that? How could she hurt my baby?”
I wanted to believe her. God, how I wanted to. Because if Taylor knew—if she'd allowed this to happen—then everything about our marriage had been a lie.
But Detective Marquez's words echoed in my head.
These things are rarely one-time events.
“Lily told me it's happened before,” I said.
Taylor went completely still on the other end. I could hear her breathing, fast and shallow.
“What?”
“She said Evelyn puts her in there when she's bad. That the cold helps her think.”
The scream that came through the phone was raw, primal—a sound of pure, unadulterated agony.
“No. No, no, no. That can't be. I would have known. I would have seen something. I'm her mother.”
“Would you, Taylor?” The question was out before I could stop it. “Because I missed it too. All the signs were there and we both missed them. Or maybe we just didn't want to see.”
She was sobbing now, uncontrollably.
“I need to see her. Please, Ethan. Let me see my daughter.”
“Not yet,” I said. “She's sleeping. She's been through hell. And until I know exactly what happened—until I know you had nothing to do with this—she stays with me.”
Taylor went quiet. When she spoke again, her voice was hollow, broken.
“You think I knew? You think I would let anyone hurt my baby? Even my own mother?”
“I don't know what to think anymore,” I admitted. “Everything I thought I knew about your family... it was all just a mask, wasn't it?”
Before she could answer, there was a knock at my door.
I looked through the peephole.
Two police officers. And behind them, Detective Marquez.
“I have to go,” I told Taylor. “The police are here.”
“Ethan, wait—”
I hung up.
May you like
When I opened the door, Detective Marquez's face told me everything I needed to know.
She had bad news.
