Chapter 1 - The Woman Behind the Door
The woman screaming inside my pantry was my daughter's mother.
And my wife was holding the key.
Ten minutes earlier, I had come home from work to a sight I still see whenever I close my eyes. My five-year-old daughter, Lily, was sitting on the kitchen floor beside the trash can. She had a chipped plate balanced on her knees and cold yellow sauce smeared across her mouth.
At the dining table, my wife Vanessa's children, Brandon and Kayla, were eating roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and fresh rolls.
"Daddy?" Lily whispered.
She tried to hide her plate behind her back.
"What are you doing down there, sweetheart?"
Vanessa stepped between us, smiling too quickly. "Lily threw a fit. We're working on consequences."
I looked at the food on the floor. "You made her eat beside the garbage?"
"Don't make it dramatic, Aaron."
Lily crossed the kitchen in three shaky steps and grabbed my pant leg.
"She does it when you're gone," she said. "She says I don't belong at their table."
Brandon stopped chewing. Kayla stared at her plate. Vanessa's smile disappeared.
"Lily has an imagination," she said.
Then came three heavy blows from the pantry door.
A silver key glittered in Vanessa's clenched fist.
Vanessa moved toward it. I moved faster.
"Don't," she snapped. "The lock is broken."
A muffled woman's voice came through the wood. "Aaron! Get Lily out of here!"
I knew that voice. It belonged to Elena Morales, Lily's biological mother, my former wife, and the woman who was supposed to pick Lily up that evening.
I pulled at the handle. The lock held. I grabbed the iron fireplace poker from beside the breakfast nook and broke the cheap latch. Elena was tied to a kitchen chair, wrists raw, her hair stuck to her damp face.
"She wants Lily to disappear from your life," Elena gasped. "Call the police."
Vanessa backed against the refrigerator. "She's lying. She came here threatening me."
Elena shook her head. "Ask her about the guardianship papers. Ask her about Ricardo Salazar."
May you like
At the sound of that name, Vanessa dropped her phone.
On its bright screen, a message appeared: TOMORROW. 9 A.M. THE GIRL GOES FIRST.
