Chapter 7 - The Person Across the Street
I wanted to hate Aunt Denise immediately. It would have been easier than remembering her bringing cupcakes to my eighth birthday and giving me the bicycle helmet Dad said I didn't need.
"She knew?" I asked.
"We know she's tied to the company receiving the funds," Caleb said. "We don't know yet what she understood."
Mom put her toast down. "She knew Ethan frightened me."
That part required no investigation.
The next morning, Denise sent another message: I KNOW WHERE YOU ARE. TELL YOUR MOTHER TO STOP MAKING THINGS WORSE.
Beth helped us report the message and document it without answering. Caleb asked if I wanted to block Denise. I said I wanted the evidence saved first.
"You sound like your grandmother," he told me.
"You told me Dad said she was dead."
"She died last winter," Caleb said. "She spent years asking about you. I should have found another way to reach you."
He didn't demand forgiveness. That made his regret easier to believe.
That afternoon, I met a counselor at school. She let me sit with my coat on, told me what she was required to report, and asked what I wanted my teachers to know.
"Not all of it," I said. "Just enough that they stop asking why I look tired."
When I returned to the apartment, Mom was reading a letter that had arrived through Dad's attorney. The envelope included a request that she withdraw her statement and a warning that he might publicize her old signed confession. Beth told her to give it to her lawyer.
"He still thinks he can scare me with paper," Mom said.
Then she looked at me.
"Emily, do you remember the little pantry in our old house? The one with the yellow door?"
May you like
I nodded slowly.
"He locked you inside it the night I signed that confession."
