Chapter 2 - THE FAMILY STORY
Officer Ramirez opened the refrigerator while Officer Dalton moved between Jonah and Chloe.
There was nothing unusual inside.
Milk.
Eggs.
Food containers.
A broken phone-shaped patch of condensation on the shelf where I had removed the evidence.
Ramirez looked back at Chloe.
“What else is inside, ma’am?”
Chloe’s lips trembled.
Linda answered before she could.
“She’s confused. She fell.”
I turned toward Linda.
“You weren’t asked.”
Her smile tightened.
“She has episodes when she’s tired.”
Chloe stared at the floor.
Jonah folded his arms.
“My wife has balance problems. Everyone knows that.”
The words came too quickly.
Too cleanly.
They had used them before.
Officer Dalton crouched beside Chloe.
“Did your husband hurt you?”
Jonah watched her.
Linda watched her.
I watched her breathing become shallow.
Chloe’s fingers curled against the tile.
“No,” she whispered.
My heart dropped.
Dalton glanced at me.
I wanted to shout, but Chloe’s eyes stopped me.
She was not protecting Jonah.
She was terrified of what happened after the police left.
Ramirez asked Jonah to step into the living room.
He obeyed with an offended sigh.
Linda followed him.
“I’m his mother. I should be present.”
“No, ma’am,” Ramirez said.
The kitchen finally became quiet.
Dalton helped Chloe into a chair.
I found her cane beneath the table and placed it beside her.
She wouldn’t look at me.
“Why did you say you fell?”
Her jaw tightened.
Dalton lifted one hand.
“Let her answer when she’s ready.”
Rain lashed the glass.
Chloe stared at the refrigerator.
Then she whispered, “They’ll take Sophie.”
My breath stopped.
Sophie was Chloe’s eight-year-old daughter.
She was supposed to be sleeping upstairs.
I looked toward the ceiling.
“Where is she?”
Chloe’s eyes filled.
“Not here.”
Dalton straightened.
“Where is your daughter?”
“I don’t know.”
The room changed instantly.
Ramirez returned from the living room.
Jonah stood behind him.
His expression remained calm, but his left thumb rubbed repeatedly against his wedding ring.
A stress habit.
I remembered it from Christmas dinner, when I had asked why Sophie stopped attending school.
“Jonah,” Ramirez said, “where is your daughter?”
“At my brother’s house.”
“Address?”
Jonah hesitated.
Linda answered.
“Westbridge Road.”
Ramirez looked at her.
“House number?”
She stopped smiling.
Jonah said, “I don’t remember.”
I stared at him.
“You don’t remember where your daughter is sleeping?”
“She’s safe.”
Chloe began shaking.
“Sophie doesn’t know his brother.”
Jonah’s gaze snapped toward her.
That was the first real crack in his control.
Officer Dalton noticed.
“So your daughter isn’t with his brother?”
Chloe covered her mouth.
“I heard her crying earlier.”
“Where?”
Chloe pointed toward the refrigerator.
Jonah laughed once.
A short, ugly sound.
“She hit her head.”
I stepped closer to the appliance.
The refrigerator was built into a cabinet wall.
At first, it looked normal.
Then I noticed the narrow scratch marks on the tile beneath it.
Not random.
Parallel.
The entire refrigerator had been moved recently.
I ran my fingers along the side panel.
There was cold air coming from behind it.
Ramirez joined me.
“What are you looking for?”
I pushed against the metal frame.
Something clicked behind the appliance.
Jonah moved.
Dalton stopped him with one hand.
“Stay back.”
The refrigerator shifted forward half an inch.
Behind it, hidden in the cabinetry, was a black steel door.
Chloe’s face crumpled.
May you like
“I told you there was more.”
Then a child’s hand struck the other side.
