Chapter 1 - Three Days Without Emily
The first thing I broke was the padlock.
The second was the promise I had made myself after divorcing Sarah.
Never storm into her house angry.
Never give a judge, a lawyer, or Emily a reason to believe I could not control myself.
For four years, I had followed that rule.
That Sunday afternoon, I stopped caring.
“Emily!”
My daughter lifted her head.
She was sitting behind the bars of a large metal dog enclosure in the far corner of the backyard.
A blue tarp covered most of it.
Her knees were pulled against her chest.
Her dark blond hair hung around her face.
“Daddy?”
The word barely came out.
I reached the door.
Heavy padlock.
“Back up.”
She moved.
I found bolt cutters beside a rusted gardening bench.
One handle was cracked.
I pushed anyway.
Nothing.
Again.
Metal bit into my palms.
“Daddy!”
“I’m here.”
The lock snapped.
I kicked the door open.
Emily crawled before I could reach.
I dropped the cutters and pulled her against me.
Her body shook so violently that I could feel it through my jacket.
“I’ve got you.”
She buried her face against my neck.
“He locked it.”
“Jason?”
She nodded.
“How long?”
“I don’t know.”
“When did you eat?”
“He brought crackers.”
My rage became physical.
Not shouting.
Something colder.
“Where’s Mom?”
Emily gripped me harder.
I lifted her.
“We’re leaving.”
Mrs. Harris stood at the lower fence section with her phone in one hand.
She was seventy two and wore gardening gloves even though she had abandoned whatever she had been doing next door.
“I’m calling police.”
“Do it.”
I turned toward the fence.
Emily suddenly twisted in my arms.
“No.”
“What?”
“Don’t go that way.”
“It’s okay.”
“No!”
She pointed toward the swimming pool.
The water was green and cloudy.
Dead leaves floated along one side.
I had noticed dark shapes beneath the surface when I climbed over, but my brain had classified them as pool equipment.
Now I looked properly.
Black bags.
At least four.
Large.
Weighted.
Some pressed against the bottom.
One shifted slowly in the water.
Emily began trembling.
“Daddy, please don’t look.”
“What’s in there?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you see Jason put them in?”
She nodded.
Mrs. Harris called across:
“Last night. I saw him carrying them.”
I tightened my hold.
Emily whispered:
“Mom tried to stop him.”
Every muscle in my body locked.
“What happened to Mom?”
She started crying.
“He dragged her.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“When?”
“Friday.”
Friday.
Three days ago.
The same day Emily stopped answering.
I reached for my phone.
Then the back door slammed open.
Jason Vale came out fast.
Stained gray shirt.
Work pants.
Face red.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Emily made a sound I had never heard from her before.
Pure fear.
She grabbed my jacket.
“Daddy.”
Jason charged.
“Put her down.”
“No.”
“She’s my stepdaughter.”
“She’s my daughter.”
“You broke into my property.”
“You locked a ten year old in a cage.”
“It wasn’t locked.”
I looked at broken padlock lying in mud.
Jason corrected:
“It was for her own safety.”
Mrs. Harris raised her phone.
“I saw the lock.”
Jason pointed.
“Stay out of this, old woman.”
She did not move.
Then he reached for Emily.
I stepped back.
“Don’t touch her.”
Jason grabbed my jacket.
I knocked his hand away.
He lunged again.
This time I shoved him hard enough that he fell onto muddy lawn.
He came back up almost immediately.
“You won’t leave this yard with her.”
Mrs. Harris shouted into phone:
“He’s attacking him now!”
Jason stopped.
Sirens were faint somewhere beyond neighborhood.
His face changed.
Not fear yet.
Calculation.
Then Emily moved inside my arms.
Her left hand went under the torn sleeve of her shirt.
She pulled out a tiny rusty key.
Blue plastic cap around the top.
She pushed it into my palm.
“Mom gave me this.”
Jason saw.
The color drained from his face.
“Emily.”
My daughter recoiled.
“Give that to me.”
I closed my fist.
“What does it open?”
Jason took a step.
“Michael, you have no idea what you’re touching.”
Emily whispered:
“Pool.”
I turned.
One black bag had risen closer to the surface.
A metal chain appeared beneath it.
At the end, half hidden in green water, was a dark steel lockbox.
Jason moved.
I backed toward pool.
“No.”
His voice changed.
“Michael, don’t.”
I crouched enough to pull the chain with one hand while still holding Emily.
The box scraped against concrete.
Water poured from the sides.
The rusty key fit.
Jason whispered:
“Don’t open it.”
Emily buried her face against me.
I turned the key.
Inside was a sealed waterproof pouch.
A small phone.
A flash drive.
A notebook.
And an envelope with my name.
MICHAEL.
I reached.
Emily grabbed my wrist.
“No.”
I looked.
“Mom said police first.”
Sirens grew louder.
Then she said the sentence that changed everything.
“She wasn’t hiding it from Jason.”
“What?”
“She said he already knew she had proof.”
Emily’s eyes met mine.
“She was hiding it from you, Daddy.”
I could barely breathe.
“Why?”
My daughter looked at the envelope.
May you like
“Because she said if you found out what he did with your name, you would come here and Jason was waiting for that.”
Behind us, Jason started running.
