Chapter 3 - The Pink Box
The police entered less than thirty seconds later.
Two uniformed officers came through the front door first.
Behind them was Detective Maria Santos.
I knew her from a child-trafficking task force operation three years earlier.
She knew enough about my work not to ask unnecessary questions.
She looked at Lily once and immediately understood the seriousness of the situation.
“Medical team is coming.”
Grant lifted both hands.
“This is a misunderstanding.”
Santos ignored him.
Her eyes stayed on Lily.
“Can you tell me where you hurt?”
Lily hid her face.
“That’s okay,” Santos said gently.
“You don’t have to talk to me yet.”
Vanessa folded her arms.
“This is ridiculous.”
Santos turned toward her.
“Name?”
“Vanessa Vale.”
“Do you live here?”
Vanessa hesitated.
Grant answered for her.
“Yes.”
I stared at him.
“This is still my legal residence.”
Grant’s face tightened.
Santos looked toward the staircase.
“What’s upstairs?”
“Bedrooms,” Grant said.
Lily whispered again.
“The box.”
Santos crouched several feet away.
“What box, sweetheart?”
Lily pointed toward the second floor.
“Pink.”
Vanessa suddenly spoke.
“She has an imagination.”
Lily flinched.
Santos noticed.
So did I.
“What’s inside the pink box?” Santos asked.
Lily’s lips trembled.
“Things Mommy sent.”
My skin went cold.
I had sent Lily eight packages while I was gone.
Small things.
A stuffed rabbit.
A snow globe from Montana.
A handwritten birthday card.
Two voice-recording toys.
Hair clips.
A silver bracelet engraved with three words.
Mommy Comes Home.
Grant had told me every package arrived.
He had even texted photographs showing Lily supposedly opening them.
I looked at him.
“Where are the things I sent her?”
Grant blinked.
“In her room.”
Lily shook her head.
“No.”
Vanessa snapped.
“Stop lying.”
Santos turned immediately.
“Do not address the child.”
Vanessa’s eyes narrowed.
Santos sent an officer upstairs.
Lily gave directions through me.
“Mommy’s closet.”
“Behind the shoes.”
“Under the blanket.”
Three minutes later, the officer returned carrying a large pink storage box.
My handwriting covered the shipping labels attached to the side.
Every package I had mailed sat inside unopened.
Every birthday card remained sealed.
Every gift was untouched.
On top sat something I had never sent.
A black digital recorder.
Santos put on gloves.
Grant moved suddenly.
“That’s mine.”
The room went silent.
Santos looked at him.
“You just said everything in the box belonged to Evelyn.”
Grant’s expression collapsed for half a second.
Then he recovered.
“I forgot that was there.”
Santos lifted the recorder.
“Then you won’t mind if we preserve it as evidence.”
Grant’s face went gray.
May you like
Vanessa stared at him.
And I realized she did not know what was on that recorder either.
