Chapter 5 - What Vanessa Never Told MeHarris shouted toward the wall.
“Police! Step away from the structure!”
No answer.
He and the second officer moved toward the bedroom.
I pulled Nora behind me.
Vanessa grabbed my shoulder.
“Ryan.”
I looked at her.
“What?”
“I know the voice.”
“Who is it?”
She swallowed.
“It isn't Marcus.”
A hammer struck the wall.
Everyone jumped.
Harris moved toward the source.
“Come out!”
Another blow.
Wood splintered.
Then silence.
The officers rushed to the panel.
Nothing.
The passage was empty.
But something had been left behind.
A small metal key.
And underneath it, a photograph.
Harris picked it up.
I looked over his shoulder.
It showed me.
Standing outside this house.
Years ago.
I stared at the image.
“That's impossible.”
Vanessa began crying.
“Ryan.”
“When was this taken?”
She didn't answer.
Harris asked, “Have you ever seen this house before meeting Vanessa?”
“No.”
He turned the photograph over.
A date was written on the back.
October 14, 2012.
I looked at Vanessa.
“That was before we met.”
“I know.”
“Then why am I here?”
She shook her head.
“I don't know.”
I took the photograph.
There was another person standing beside me.
A woman.
Her face was partially obscured by sunlight.
But I recognized her coat.
I recognized the way she held her purse.
My breath stopped.
“My mother.”
Vanessa looked at me.
“What?”
“My mother died in 2015.”
Harris studied the photograph.
“Are you certain?”
“Yes.”
My hands started shaking.
I had never seen the picture before.
Yet there I was.
Standing outside our house.
Beside my mother.
And behind us, barely visible through an upstairs window, was a child's face.
Nora whispered, “That's me.”
I stared at her.
“No.”
She pointed.
“The yellow sweater.”
Harris zoomed in with his phone.
The face was too blurry to identify.
But the yellow sweater was unmistakable.
The same torn cuff.
The same sweater Nora wore now.
I looked at Vanessa.
“You said you found her three weeks ago.”
“I did.”
“Then how could she be in a photograph taken fourteen years ago?”
Vanessa's voice broke.
“She was.”
Harris looked at her.
“Explain.”
Vanessa sat down.
“My parents knew Marcus.”
I said nothing.
“They introduced me to him.”
“Why?”
“Because he promised he could help me.”
“With what?”
“Money.”
“For what?”
She stared at me.
“For my family.”
I didn't understand.
“My father had debts,” she said. “A lot of them.”
Harris leaned closer.
“What kind of debts?”
“Gambling.”
The word hung in the room.
Vanessa continued.
“Marcus said he had connections. He said if I worked for him, the debt would disappear.”
“What did you do?”
“At first, nothing terrible.”
I almost laughed.
“Vanessa, try again.”
She closed her eyes.
“I signed papers.”
“What papers?”
“Custody papers.”
I looked at Nora.
“For her?”
Vanessa shook her head.
“For other children.”
Harris's face hardened.
“You were helping him transfer custody?”
“I didn't know what he was doing.”
“You signed documents.”
“I thought I was helping families place children safely.”
She wiped her face.
“When I discovered what Marcus was actually doing, I tried to leave.”
“And Nora?”
“He threatened her.”
“So you stayed.”
“Yes.”
“For six years?”
“No.”
She looked at me.
“For six weeks.”
“What happened after that?”
“I ran.”
“Without Nora?”
“He told me if I took her, he'd find us.”
“So you left your daughter with him.”
“I thought he'd hurt me if I didn't.”
Her voice cracked.
“I was nineteen.”
Silence.
I wanted to hate her.
Part of me did.
But the woman sitting on our sofa looked like she had been carrying a coffin inside her chest for years.
Then Harris asked the question that changed everything.
“Why does the ledger have Mr. Carter's name?”
Vanessa looked at me.
“I don't know.”
A phone rang.
Everyone froze.
The sound was coming from inside the wall.
Harris tore open another section of paneling.
An old cell phone sat in a small cavity.
The screen displayed one incoming message.
ASK RYAN WHAT HAPPENED TO HIS SISTER.
I stared at it.
“My sister?”
I had one sister.
Claire.
She had disappeared when I was seventeen.
Everyone said she ran away.
Vanessa suddenly whispered, “Claire knew Marcus.”
I turned toward her.
“How do you know my sister's name?”
May you like
She looked at me with tears in her eyes.
“Because Claire was the person who first brought me to him.”
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