Chapter 19 - The Place They Chose for Emily
Six months after Victor’s conviction, I drove Emily to Hawthorne Residential Center.
Not because she was staying.
Because she asked to see it.
At first, I refused.
Then her therapist told me seeing the place might remove some of the monster she had built in her imagination.
So we went.
Hawthorne was not a prison.
That surprised me.
It was a legitimate treatment facility.
Children played basketball outside.
Counselors walked between brick buildings.
There were gardens.
Classrooms.
A small library.
The horror had never been Hawthorne itself.
The horror was that Rebecca planned to place a healthy child there using lies.
The director met us personally.
“I’m sorry for what happened.”
She told Emily.
“We should have verified more.”
Emily looked around.
“Would you really have kept me here?”
The director answered carefully.
“We would have evaluated you.”
“And if I said my dad didn’t send me?”
“We would have called him.”
I watched Emily process that.
“So Rebecca lied to you too?”
“Yes.”
Emily nodded.
That seemed to help.
Before leaving, we walked through the garden.
There was a wooden bench beneath a maple tree.
Emily sat beside me.
“Daddy?”
“Yes?”
“Did Rebecca think I was bad?”
“No.”
“Then why did she want me gone?”
I had struggled for months to explain greed, fear, manipulation, and cowardice without poisoning a child’s view of the world.
“She wanted something.”
“What?”
“To protect herself.”
Emily frowned.
“More than she wanted to protect me?”
“Yes.”
She looked toward the trees.
“That’s sad.”
“It is.”
“Do you hate her?”
I considered lying.
I didn’t.
“Sometimes.”
“Mom says hate makes people heavy.”
I stared at her.
“Your mom said that?”
“She told me when a girl at preschool bit me.”
I laughed.
I had forgotten.
Emily took my hand.
“I don’t want to be heavy.”
Neither did I.
We left Hawthorne behind.
On the drive home, Emily asked whether we could stop for ice cream.
We did.
She ordered chocolate.
It dripped down the front of her shirt.
For once, I didn’t care.
That evening, I opened the closet where my wedding tuxedo had remained untouched for almost two years.
Inside the jacket pocket was the original crumpled note.
Evidence had finally been returned after the trial.
I unfolded it.
Rebecca’s handwriting still looked elegant.
After the wedding, you will be sent somewhere more appropriate for children like you.
I read it once.
Then I carried it downstairs.
Emily was doing homework.
“Can I ask you something?”
She looked up.
“Okay.”
“Do you want to keep this?”
She studied the paper.
Then shook her head.
“No.”
“What should we do with it?”
She thought for a moment.
“Burn it.”
We went to the fireplace.
Emily held one corner.
I held the other.
Together we dropped it into the flames.
The paper curled.
The ink disappeared.
Emily watched until nothing remained.
May you like
Then she smiled.
“Now it can’t scare anybody.”
