Chương 2
Margaret had been furious when she found out.
“You don’t call the police before we know,” she had told him.
“And if we do know?”
“We don’t.”
“Mom.”
“We don’t.”
They had been standing in a motel bathroom because it was the only place Margaret could speak without hearing the television Daniel had turned on to fill the silence. She had gripped the sink and refused to look at herself.
For twenty-three years she had learned not to believe.
Not immediately.
A woman in Phoenix had emailed photographs of a girl with Anna’s eyes.
A retired teacher in Indiana had sworn one of her former students was Anna.
A psychic in Missouri had mailed Margaret a hand-drawn map and then threatened to go public when Margaret refused to pay.
There had been sightings at bus stations, churches, shelters, festivals, shopping centers, and once at a funeral home in Oregon.
Each one had required hope.
Hope had become expensive.
Daniel had watched his mother pay for it anyway.
That was why, when an anonymous envelope arrived three days earlier containing a printed photograph of a barefoot woman standing behind chicken wire and four handwritten words—ASK VICTOR ABOUT MAY 2003—Margaret had initially put it in a kitchen drawer.
Daniel had taken it back out.
Now, standing in the coop, he looked toward the open yard.
“I’m calling the sheriff as soon as I get a signal.”
Victor folded his arms.
“You think I’m stopping you?”
“You locked a woman in a chicken coop.”
“For her own protection.”
Anna whispered, “No.”
Everyone looked at her.
Victor’s face hardened.
Anna stared at the floor.
“No,” she said again.
The word was barely audible, but it changed the room.
Victor took one step forward.
Daniel blocked him.
“Don’t.”
“I’m trying to explain.”
“You’ve explained enough.”
“No, I haven’t.”
Victor looked at Margaret.
“You want the truth? Fine. Your daughter hasn’t been in this coop twenty-three years. She hasn’t even been on this farm twenty-three years. Whatever story she’s telling you, you better understand that before you ruin all our lives.”
Margaret felt the familiar pull toward uncertainty.
Victor saw it.
He leaned into it.
“She came here willingly.”
Anna made a sound.
Victor glanced at her.
“She did.”
Margaret turned toward Anna.
Anna had begun rubbing her thumb over the dent in the locket.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
“Anna,” Margaret said carefully, “did you come here willingly?”
Anna did not answer.
Victor exhaled through his nose.
“See?”
Daniel said, “Shut up.”
Margaret shot him a look.
Not because he was wrong.
Because Anna flinched at the sudden force in his voice.
Daniel saw that too.
His shoulders lowered.
He took a step farther from Victor.
“Sorry.”
Anna looked at him for the first time.
Daniel swallowed.
“I’m Daniel.”
Nothing.
“Your brother.”
Anna’s brow tightened.
“You were three.”
Daniel nodded.
“Yeah.”
“You had a red truck.”
His mouth opened.
Margaret closed her eyes.
Daniel had slept with a red plastic fire truck for almost a year after Anna disappeared because it was the last toy she had played with before she vanished.
He still had it.
Not on purpose, exactly.
It was in a box in his garage with college notebooks, an old baseball glove, and receipts he would never need.
He gave a quiet, strangled laugh.
“Yeah.”
Anna stared at him.
“You bit me.”
Daniel’s laugh broke.
Margaret covered her mouth.
At three years old, Daniel had bitten Anna on the forearm because she would not give him the truck.
Margaret had separated them.
Anna had cried.
Daniel had cried harder because Margaret made him apologize.
It had been ordinary.
So painfully ordinary.
Nobody outside the family knew it.
Margaret lowered herself to the ground.
This time Anna let her come closer.
Not close enough to touch.
But closer.
Victor said, “Memories don’t prove anything.”
Daniel turned.
“Actually, they’re doing pretty well so far.”
Victor’s eyes narrowed.
From outside came the distant mechanical hum of an engine.
Everyone stopped.
Victor looked toward the yard.
Margaret saw fear finally enter his face.
Not panic.
Calculation.
He moved.
Daniel caught his forearm.
Victor jerked away.
“Get your hands off me.”
“Stay inside.”
“You’re trespassing.”
“And you’re leaving?”
“It’s my property.”
The engine grew louder.
Gravel snapped beneath tires.
Anna pressed both palms over her ears.
Margaret wanted to touch her.
She didn’t.
“Anna, someone’s coming.”
Anna rocked once.
“Who?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Victor muttered something.
Daniel moved into the doorway.
A white county sheriff’s SUV came around the side of the farmhouse and stopped beside an rusted tractor.
A deputy stepped out.
Then another.
Victor’s mouth tightened.
Daniel looked at his mother.
“I called before we came.”
Margaret nodded.
She could be angry later.
At that moment, she loved him for it.
The first deputy approached with one hand resting near his belt.
“Victor Mercer?”
Victor stepped into the sunlight.
“This is my farm.”
“I asked if you’re Victor Mercer.”
“Yes.”
The deputy looked into the coop.
His expression changed when he saw Anna.
“Sir, step away from the doorway.”
Victor’s voice rose.
“These people came onto my property and assaulted me.”
Margaret stood.
“I hit him.”
“Ma’am, please stay where you are.”
“I’m not denying it.”
“Margaret,” Daniel said quietly.
The deputy glanced between them.
“Everybody is going to get a chance to speak.”
Anna whispered, “No police.”
Margaret turned.
Anna had gone even paler.
“No police.”
“It’s okay.”
“No.”
Margaret stopped herself.
She had almost said They’re here to help.
She did not know if Anna had ever experienced police as help.
She did not know what Victor had told her.
So she tried again.
“They’re not taking you anywhere unless you know where you’re going.”
The deputy heard.
He looked toward Anna.
“Ma’am, my name is Deputy Harris. I’m not going to come closer right now.”
Anna stared at him.
“We have an ambulance on the way.”
“No hospital.”
Harris nodded.
“All right.”
May you like
Victor gave an incredulous laugh.
“You’re negotiating with her now?”
