Chương 4
She had seen the way I questioned every decision after years of being told I was wrong.
“He planned this,” Rachel whispered.
“I don’t know.”
The answer came automatically.
Rachel stared at me.
“You don’t know?”
I hated that she was right.
Even now, after everything, a part of me still searched for another explanation.
Maybe Ethan had gone there to look for Caleb.
Maybe someone else had taken his phone.
Maybe Lily misunderstood.
Hope was strange.
It could keep you alive.
It could also keep you from seeing what was standing directly in front of you.
My phone rang again.
Detective Ross.
I answered.
“We need you to come to the station,” he said.
“Why?”
“We need a formal statement about Ethan.”
My throat tightened.
“Is he there?”
“No.”
That scared me more.
“Where is he?”
“We’re trying to locate him.”
The sentence landed slowly.
Trying to locate him.
The father of my missing child had vanished after police found his phone at an empty property.
I sat down.
Rachel took the phone from my hand for a second.
“Wait,” she said.
I looked at her.
She spoke into the phone.
“This is Rachel Morgan, Caleb’s aunt.”
Detective Ross responded, but I could not hear him.
Rachel’s face became more serious.
After a moment, she handed the phone back.
“He wants to know something.”
“What?”
“He wants to know if Ethan ever had access to your house after the divorce.”
I stared at the kitchen door.
The back door.
The one that had been unlocked.
“Yes,” I said slowly.
“During custody exchanges.”
“How often?”
“Usually twice a week.”
“Did he ever have a key?”
I hesitated.
“Yes.”
Rachel looked at me.
I had not told anyone that.
Not even the police.
Because the key had been part of an argument between us.
When Ethan moved out, he refused to return it.
He said he needed it because Caleb’s belongings were still there.
I eventually changed the locks.
At least I thought I did.
“What?” Detective Ross asked.
I swallowed.
“He had a key once.”
“Once?”
“He said he lost it.”
“And?”
“I changed the locks.”
“When?”
I searched through the memories.
The dates.
The paperwork.
The small details of a life that suddenly mattered.
“About six months ago.”
Another pause.
“Mrs. Hale, are you certain?”
The question bothered me.
Not because he was asking.
Because I was no longer certain of anything.
“I paid a locksmith.”
“Do you have a record?”
“I think so.”
“Find it.”
The call ended.
I sat there staring at my hands.
Lily was sitting at the table now.
She had stopped crying.
That worried me more.
Children were not supposed to become quiet during disasters.
They were supposed to run around and ask impossible questions and complain about dinner.
They were not supposed to learn how to sit still while adults searched for their little brother.
I walked over and sat beside her.
“Sweetheart.”
She looked up.
“Did Daddy hurt Caleb?”
The question was so direct that it almost took the air out of me.
I opened my mouth.
Nothing came.
Because I did not know.
And a child should never have to carry the weight of an adult saying, “I don’t know if your father is dangerous.”
So I reached for the only honest answer I had.
“I don’t know what happened.”
She nodded.
That was all.
No crying.
No panic.
Just a small nod.
And somehow that was worse.
Around midnight, we arrived at the police station.
The building looked exactly like it always had.
Gray walls.
Plastic chairs.
People filling out forms.
A vending machine humming in the corner.
The world had not stopped.
That bothered me.
A woman near the entrance laughed at something on her phone.
An officer walked past carrying a folder.
Someone complained quietly about paperwork.
My son was missing, and everyone else was still living.
Detective Ross met us in a small interview room.
He looked different from earlier.
Less like someone gathering information.
More like someone carrying it.
“Did you find Ethan?” I asked.
He shook his head.
“Not yet.”
“Does that mean he ran?”
“We don’t know.”
I almost laughed.
Not because anything was funny.
Because those three words had become unbearable.
We don’t know.
The answer to everything.
Detective Ross placed a folder on the table.
“I need you to look at something.”
Inside was a printed photograph.
It was Ethan’s phone.
Not the phone itself.
A picture of where it had been found.
Beside it was another photograph.
A piece of paper.
I leaned closer.
My heart started beating faster.
“What is that?”
Detective Ross watched my reaction.
“You tell me.”
I looked at the handwriting.
I knew it immediately.
Because I had seen it every month.
On school forms.
On medical paperwork.
On birthday cards.
Ethan’s handwriting.
The paper contained one sentence.
A sentence that made my entire body go cold.
“Tomorrow everything changes, and she will finally lose them both.”
I looked up.
“Who is she?”
Detective Ross did not answer.
He did not need to.
Because I already knew who Ethan meant.
Me.
I could not move for several seconds.
The words on the paper blurred together, but I did not need to read them again.
I knew what they meant.
Tomorrow everything changes, and she will finally lose them both.
My fingers went numb.
Detective Ross watched me carefully.
“You recognize the handwriting.”
It was not a question.
“Yes.”
“Whose is it?”
I looked back down at the paper.
“Ethan’s.”
The room stayed quiet.
That was the strange thing about fear.
People imagined it as screaming and panic.
Sometimes it was just silence.
A person sitting across from you while your entire understanding of your life rearranged itself.
“What does he mean by ‘both’?” Detective Ross asked.
I shook my head.
“I don’t know.”
“Think.”
The word was gentle, but it still felt like pressure.
I closed my eyes.
Both.
My children.
May you like
My mind rejected it immediately.
Because even with everything happening, some part of me still could not accept that Ethan would hurt Caleb.
