Chapter 7: The Empty Bedroom

For three seconds, I couldn't understand what I was looking at.

Lily's pink blanket lay twisted across the bed. One of her stuffed rabbits rested on the floor. The window was open just wide enough for the curtains to move in the afternoon breeze.

And my daughter was gone.

I ran to the window.

“Lily!””

My voice carried across the backyard, but nobody answered.

I looked down at the garden. The lawn was empty. The gate stood closed. Beyond it, cars passed along the quiet residential street as if nothing had happened.

Behind me, Vanessa was crying.

“Marcus, please listen to me.””

I spun around.

“Where is my daughter?””

“I don't know.””

“You were downstairs with me!””

“I know!””

“Then how did someone get into her bedroom?””

Vanessa stared at the open window.

Her expression changed.

“Oh, God.””

I grabbed her shoulders.

“What?””

She pulled away, shaking her head.

“Richard knows about the window.””

My blood ran cold.

“What does that mean?””

“Danielle used to open it when Lily was little. Richard came here once, before you and I were married. He knew the layout of the house.””

I released her.

“You let that man into my home?””

“He came to speak with you about a financial matter. You weren't here. He said he would leave a card.””

“I never met him.””

Vanessa covered her mouth.

“I know.””

The realization hit me.

Richard hadn't needed to break into our home. He knew the house. He knew Vanessa. He knew about Danielle's letter, the necklace, and the key.

And now he knew Lily was the one person who could lead him to the original evidence.

I pulled out my phone and called emergency services.

“My seven-year-old daughter is missing,” I said when the operator answered.

“I believe she may have been taken from her bedroom. I have a threatening message and a photograph from someone who may be involved.””

The operator began asking questions.

I gave Lily's description, our address, and the details of the messages. I told them about Richard Cole, the financial threats, and the possibility that he had been watching our house.

When the call ended, I turned to Vanessa.

“Don't leave this house.””

She nodded, crying.

I ran downstairs.

The front door was still locked. The living-room furniture remained undisturbed. On the coffee table, Danielle's letter lay beside the empty jewelry box.

Then I noticed something near the entrance.

A small pink hair bead.

Lily's.

I crouched and picked it up.

It had been pulled from one of her braids.

I looked toward the front door, then at the open doorway leading to the kitchen.

“Vanessa!””

She appeared at the top of the stairs.

“Did Lily come downstairs after I went to look at the letter?””

Vanessa shook her head.

“No.””

“Did you hear anything?””

She hesitated.

I stood.

“Tell me.””

“I heard a noise. A few minutes ago. I thought it was the front gate.””

“You heard someone outside and didn't check?””

“I thought it was a delivery!””

I pressed my fingers against my forehead.

My daughter was missing, and every second we spent arguing was another second we couldn't get back.

Then my phone vibrated.

An incoming message.

*STOP CALLING THE POLICE.*

A second message followed.

*YOU HAVE TWENTY MINUTES TO BRING THE KEY.*

I stared at the screen.

Vanessa came down the stairs slowly.

“Is it him?””

I showed her the message.

She grabbed the edge of the coffee table.

“He'll hurt her.””

“Don't say that.””

“Marcus, you don't understand how he operates.””

“Then explain it!””

“He never makes a threat unless he has already decided what he's willing to do.””

I looked at her.

“Why would you know that?””

She began to cry again.

“Because I watched him destroy people who thought he was bluffing.””

My phone rang.

This time, the number wasn't hidden.

Richard Cole.

I answered immediately.

“Where is my daughter?””

His voice was calm.

“Mr. Reed, I assume you've found the note.””

“Where is Lily?””

“She is safe.””

“If you've touched her—”

“Lower your voice. You won't help her by losing control.””

I gripped the phone so tightly my fingers hurt.

“You have twenty minutes to tell me where she is.””

“Actually, you have twenty minutes to decide whether you want your daughter back with her future intact.””

“What does that mean?””

“The key, Marcus. Bring it to the bank. Deposit box 214. Come alone.””

“You expect me to believe you took a seven-year-old child and that I should simply follow your instructions?””

“I expect you to understand that your daughter knows something you don't.””

I glanced at Vanessa.

She was staring at the phone, her face pale.

“What does Lily know?”” I demanded.

Richard paused.

“Ask her what her mother taught her about the necklace.””

I felt a sharp, terrible ache in my chest.

“If you want the money, take it. If you want the necklace, take it. But leave my daughter out of this.””

“It's not about the necklace anymore.””

“Then what do you want?””

“The original file.””

Vanessa suddenly stepped forward.

“Richard, please!””

He heard her.

“Ah. Vanessa is there.””

I looked at my wife.

Richard continued.

“Tell her I haven't forgotten what she did.””

Vanessa closed her eyes.

“Richard, I did what you asked. I gave you the documents. I transferred the money. You promised you would leave us alone.””

“You made a mistake.””

“What mistake?””

“You kept one copy.””

Vanessa's face went white.

I turned toward her.

“One copy of what?””

She shook her head, unable to speak.

Richard laughed softly through the phone.

“Bring the key, Marcus. And bring your wife if you want to know why Danielle left it to your daughter.””

The call ended.

For a moment, I stood motionless.

Then I looked at Vanessa.

“What copy is he talking about?””

She wiped her face with trembling fingers.

“I made a copy of the original authorization form before I gave him the envelope.””

“Where is it?””

“I hid it.””

“Where?””

She looked toward the mantelpiece.

“Inside the back of Danielle's photograph.””

I rushed to the living room and pulled the frame from the wall.

The photograph showed Danielle holding Lily in the hospital. Behind the frame, where I had found the letter, was a thin compartment taped shut.

I peeled it open.

Inside lay a small memory card wrapped in clear plastic.

I turned toward Vanessa.

“What is this?””

“It's not just a copy of the form,” she whispered.

“I scanned everything Richard gave me. I saved the records because I was afraid he would turn on me.””

“You kept evidence and said nothing?””

“I know.””

I stared at the memory card.

“Does it prove he stole the money?””

“It might.””

“Does it prove what happened to Danielle?””

Vanessa's eyes filled.

“I don't know.””

My phone buzzed again.

A photograph appeared.

Lily sat on a chair in an unfamiliar room, her cheeks wet, the gold necklace clutched in both hands. She was alive. Her eyes were wide with fear.

Beside her, a man's hand rested on the back of the chair.

Richard's message appeared beneath the image.

*SHE REMEMBERS WHERE HER MOTHER HID THE REST.*

Then another line.

*TWENTY MINUTES, MARCUS.*

I looked at the photograph again.

Lily's lips were moving.

I enlarged the image.

There was a small mark on the wall behind her. A blue sign. Part of a white clock.

And reflected in the window beside her was a row of bright ceiling lights.

I didn't know where she was.

But I knew one thing.

Richard had made a mistake.

He had sent me a photograph.

And he had given me something I could use to find my daughter.

I slipped the memory card into my pocket, called the emergency operator back, and told them a fresh image had arrived.

Then I looked at Vanessa.

“We're going to get Lily back.””

She nodded, trembling.

“But first,” I continued, “you're going to tell the police everything.””

Vanessa looked at me.

“And if they arrest me?””

I held her gaze.

“Then you'll finally face what you've done.””

She swallowed hard.

Before she could answer, my phone rang again.

An unfamiliar female voice spoke through the speaker.

“Mr. Reed? My name is Detective Harris. We've received your report.””

I closed my eyes for one brief second.

“Detective, I have a photograph of my missing daughter. I believe I know who took her.””

“Send me everything,” she said.

“And whatever you do, don't go to that bank alone.””

I looked at the picture of Lily.

“I won't.””

But as the call ended, another message appeared on my screen.

*RICHARD ISN'T THE ONLY PERSON WHO WANTS YOUR DAUGHTER SILENT.*

I read the sentence twice.

Then I looked at Vanessa.

She was staring at the memory card's empty hiding place.

And I realized she recognized the threat.

Not because Richard had sent it.

Because someone else had.

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