Chapter 13 - The Lodge Outside Aurora
A nurse adjusted my pillow when the first report came in. I was trying not to stare at my phone, trying not to count the minutes. Dr. Harris had said the contractions were quiet. She hadn't said how to stop fear from making every muscle ache.
The lodge was real. Officers found a freshly disturbed room, a child's blue sock, and a place at the table set for three. In a locked office were maps, travel documents, and copies of guardianship forms bearing signatures Elena said were forged.
But no Rosa. No Isabel. No Grace.
"They cleared out minutes before the police arrived," Mara told us. "Someone tipped them off."
Vincent was standing in his office when he heard. "Vanessa," he said bitterly.
"Or someone watching the property," Mara answered. "Don't guess. The officers have an exit route and a license plate."
"Her father gave her an impossible choice," I said. "Then she kept choosing herself."
Rafael had also found proof that Richard's law firm paid the contractor who reported Daniel's death. It was recorded as a consulting fee, issued the day after Daniel was supposedly killed on a job site.
"My husband never worked for Richard," I said.
"He did one driving job without knowing who hired him," Elena replied. "When he realized Grace was being moved, he refused to finish it."
"And they called it a construction accident."
Elena closed her eyes. "I'm sorry."
I didn't want another apology. I wanted the honest account of how Daniel died. I wanted Grace home. I wanted to believe my own daughter would one day be safe enough to play outside without someone checking for a stranger's car.
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Then the detective sent a still frame from a toll camera. The van had crossed the river heading south. In the passenger window was the faint outline of a small hand.
A child's hand was pressed against the glass.
