Chapter 1 - The Bowl on the Floor
The first thing I saw was the dog bowl.
The second was my daughter on her knees in front of it.
I had come home a day early from Chicago with two suitcases in my hands and a stupid little stuffed bear tucked under my arm for Ella. I expected music from the kitchen. Maybe the television. Maybe our golden retriever, Milo, skidding across the marble because he always heard my key before anyone else.
Instead, the mansion was silent.
Then I heard Vanessa say, "Keep eating."
I stepped into the hall.
Eight-year-old Ella knelt on the kitchen floor in the red sweater I had bought her before my trip. Her blonde braids were half undone. Tears ran down her face. In front of her sat Milo's silver bowl with dry food inside it.
"Please," Ella whispered. "I'm not a dog."
Vanessa stood over her in a black evening gown, arms folded. "Then stop acting like a spoiled little animal."
My suitcases hit the floor.
"ELLA?"
She turned so fast the bowl tipped.
"Daddy?"
I crossed the room and dropped to my knees. Ella launched herself into me. Her whole body shook.
"I'm sorry," she sobbed.
I held her tighter. "Sorry for what?"
"I tried to be good."
Behind me, Vanessa went completely still.
I looked over my shoulder. "Why is my daughter eating from a dog bowl?"
"Ethan, this is not what it looks like."
"Then make it look different."
Ella grabbed my jacket. "Daddy, please don't let her send me away."
I felt the room tilt.
"Send you where?"
Her eyes moved toward a folded white card beside the bowl.
"She said if I didn't say what was on that card, I wouldn't have to live here anymore."
Vanessa lunged for it.
I got there first.
The card was written in thick blue marker, in words simple enough for a child to memorize.
I read the first line.
May you like
Then I looked at my wife.
"What the hell is this?"
