Chapter 6 - THE EMPTY ATTIC
The attic smelled like cedar and dust.
A clean rectangle marked the shelf where the blue box had sat.
Gone.
A neighbor's doorbell camera gave us the time.
2:14 a.m.
Four hours after Michael abandoned his car.
The video showed a hooded figure entering my side gate and leaving fifteen minutes later with a rectangular box wrapped in a blanket.
The face was hidden.
The limp wasn't.
Michael had broken his ankle in college and still favored it in cold weather.
"That's him," I said.
Police also found a magnetic tracker beneath Lily's booster seat.
Someone had been following our movements for days.
Then Alvarez called with another discovery.
Some of Lily's missing money had gone to Keene, Rowe & Barlow.
Ross Keene had handled Anna's mother's estate and remained Evelyn's attorney.
Payments included:
$38,000 - guardianship preparation.
$12,000 - medical consultation.
$9,500 - behavioral assessment.
All paid months before Lily's allergic reaction.
"They weren't responding to an emergency," I said.
"They were building one," Collins replied.
Detectives found a draft affidavit in Michael's room from psychologist Dr. Martin Voss.
It described me as unstable, impaired by grief, and potentially dangerous.
I had never met him.
The affidavit was notarized by Ross Keene.
Then Alvarez called again.
"Sarah, Dr. Voss sits on the board of the hospital where Lily is admitted."
Collins looked toward the pediatric wing.
May you like
A man who had never met me had already declared me an unfit father.
And he was in the same building as my daughter.
