Chapter 12 - What My Father Sold
By the time agents opened the storage unit, I had stopped asking whether the next surprise would be the last. The room held office boxes, a cheap shredder, discarded phones, and a blue metal filing cabinet. Inside were photocopies of Mom's old work records and printed photographs of our front door.
The photographs were dated over several months. One showed me running across our lawn to catch the school bus. I stared at it until Mom quietly turned the page face down.
"They watched you?" I asked.
"They used you to get to me," she said. "That is their shame, Emily. Not yours."
Investigators later told us the unit had been rented through a subcontractor of Harlan's company. Ryan had signed as the authorized contact and made trips there on days he claimed to be driving for work. He had also photographed Mom's desk and copied numbers from an old address book.
"He was selling information," Nolan said. "We have to find out exactly to whom."
I thought of my stuffed rabbit on the new sofa. I pictured Dad tying my shoes in the hallway and helping with a science project while somebody else looked at pictures of me getting off the bus. It was the betrayal that made me dizzy, more than the photographs themselves.
Mom asked to speak privately with a therapist that night. I heard her crying through the bedroom wall. I didn't follow her this time. Nina sat with me and helped finish a puzzle with one missing corner piece.
"Can I still love him?" I asked.
Nina looked at me carefully. "You can feel whatever you feel. Loving someone doesn't mean you have to be near them when they hurt you."
A week later, Nolan brought the first official charging update. Federal prosecutors had added witness tampering allegations against Ryan. In return for discussing a plea, Ryan had offered information about Harlan's remaining records.
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"And?" Mom asked.
Nolan's face darkened. "He says there's a second person who was paid to watch Emily. Someone you know."
