Chapter 2 - DON'T TOUCH MY DAUGHTER
“The blue room?” Marcus asked.
Lily pressed her lips together. Vivian recovered first. “She is confused. Grief can do terrible things to children.”
“Then why is she wearing a cleaning apron?”
“She's learning responsibility,” Celeste said, sliding between them. “And you're trespassing.”
The taller guard, Brent Kessler, grabbed Marcus's elbow. Marcus recognized him: former head of security at Sterling Harbor. Brent had stood on the dock the morning Marcus sailed into the Gulf.
“You know me,” Marcus said quietly.
Brent's grip tightened. “I know you were buried.”
“Then you know somebody lied.”
Marcus pulled his phone from his coat. He had already sent his attorney the gala invitation and photographs taken from the driveway. Now he pressed the emergency-call button. “A child needs medical help at the Sterling estate. Six years old. Injured hands. Possible neglect.”
Vivian lunged for the phone, but three guests had begun filming. She stopped with her fingers inches away.
Lily backed toward the staircase. Celeste caught her shoulder. “Upstairs. Now.”
“Don't touch her,” Marcus said.
“I'm her legal guardian.”
“Not if I'm alive.”
He stepped toward them. Brent blocked him, and Marcus saw the outline of a pistol beneath the guard's jacket. He stopped. No grand gesture was worth frightening Lily further.
“Blue kite,” Marcus said to his daughter.
She blinked. It was their secret phrase from the summer they made a paper kite and lost it over the lake.
“What comes after blue kite?” he asked.
“Yellow string,” she whispered.
Marcus smiled despite everything. “That's my girl.”
For the first time, Lily reached for him. Celeste yanked her backward.
May you like
From above the staircase came a tiny, terrified cry. “Daddy, the door locks from the outside.”
