CHAPTER 2 : THE PICTURES DADDY NEVER SAW
Ethan carried Lily upstairs.
She refused to let him put her down.
Even when they reached her bedroom, her arms remained locked around his neck.
"It's okay," he whispered. "Daddy's not going anywhere."
Lily said nothing.
He sat on the edge of her bed with her still in his lap.
Something about the room bothered him.
At first, Ethan couldn't identify it.
Then he understood.
It didn't look like Lily anymore.
The walls were pale beige.
The shelves were almost empty.
Three carefully selected stuffed animals sat in a perfect row.
There were no crayons scattered across the desk.
No construction-paper animals.
No glitter-covered disasters.
No drawings taped crookedly to the walls.
Ethan remembered this room differently.
Rachel had once complained that there wasn't a visible patch of wall left because Lily's art covered everything.
After Rachel died, Ethan couldn't bring himself to change it.
But somebody had.
"When did your room change?"
Lily looked at him.
"Claire made it pretty."
The phrase sounded rehearsed.
"Did you like it before?"
A small nod.
"Then why did you let her change it?"
Lily's eyes dropped.
"She said big girls don't make messes."
Ethan closed his eyes for a moment.
Four.
His daughter was four.
He looked around again.
Not a child's room.
A showroom.
"Lily, where were the pictures?"
She pointed toward the little white dresser.
Ethan carried her over.
"Can I put you down for one second?"
Her arms tightened immediately.
"No."
"It's okay. I'm right here."
"No, Daddy."
The panic in her voice was instant.
Ethan stopped.
He had spent years negotiating multimillion-dollar contracts.
Nothing had prepared him for the realization that his own daughter was afraid he might disappear if she loosened her grip.
"Okay," he said.
He shifted her onto one arm and opened the drawer with the other.
Empty.
Lily stared.
Then she leaned forward.
"No."
Ethan checked again.
Nothing.
"They were here."
"I believe you."
"No, Daddy, they were here."
Her breathing quickened.
"I know."
"Lots."
"Okay."
"I made lots."
Ethan felt her beginning to panic.
He shut the drawer and held her.
"I believe you."
Lily stopped.
She looked at him as though she had never heard those words before.
"You do?"
"Yes."
A knock came at the door.
Lily instantly buried her face against him.
Claire stood in the hallway.
Ethan's entire body stiffened.
"We need to talk," she said.
"Later."
"This has gone far enough."
Ethan stared at her.
"Has it?"
Claire lowered her voice.
"Not in front of Lily."
"Then leave."
"Ethan."
"Leave."
Claire's jaw tightened.
For the first time, Ethan saw something underneath the polished exterior.
Anger.
Then it disappeared.
She stepped backward.
"Fine."
Ethan closed the door.
He locked it.
When he turned around, Lily was watching him.
"Why did you lock it?"
"So nobody comes in unless we want them to."
Something in Lily's shoulders relaxed.
Barely.
But Ethan saw it.
He carried her back to the bed.
"Sweetheart, who helped you make the pictures?"
Lily thought.
"Miss Maggie."
Ethan froze.
"Maggie?"
Lily nodded.
Margaret Lewis had worked for the Whitmore family for nearly seven years.
She had been there before Lily was born.
After Rachel died, Maggie became almost a grandmother to Lily.
Then, four months earlier, she'd abruptly resigned.
At least, that was what Claire had told Ethan.
"Why did Maggie leave?"
Lily's face changed.
"Claire yelled."
"At Maggie?"
A nod.
"Why?"
Lily shrugged.
"Miss Maggie cried."
Ethan stared at his daughter.
Claire had told him Maggie wanted to retire.
She had even shown him a message.
I think it's time for me to move on.
He had been in Seattle when it happened.
Claire had handled everything.
Ethan had sent Maggie a generous severance payment.
She never replied.
At the time, he'd assumed she wanted a clean break.
Now—
His phone buzzed.
CLAIRE.
He declined the call.
A second later, another message appeared.
We need to discuss this rationally. Lily is confused.
Ethan looked at the word.
Confused.
Hadn't Claire used that word before?
He suddenly remembered a call from Denver.
Lily had been unusually quiet.
"What's wrong, bug?"
"Nothing."
Claire had appeared behind her.
"She's just confused because her schedule changed."
Another call.
Lily had cried because Ethan couldn't come home.
Claire:
"She's overtired."
Another.
Lily wouldn't look at the camera.
Claire:
"She's going through a phase."
There had always been an explanation.
And Ethan had always accepted it.
Because accepting it was easy.
Because the alternative would have required him to stop.
To come home.
To ask questions.
A sick feeling settled in his stomach.
"Lily?"
"Yeah?"
"When Daddy was away and we talked on the phone..."
She watched him.
"Was Claire always there?"
Lily nodded.
"Did she tell you what to say?"
Silence.
Ethan immediately regretted asking the question so directly.
"You don't have to answer."
Lily played with his shirt button.
After several seconds, she whispered:
"Sometimes."
Ethan looked away.
He didn't want her to see his face.
Not yet.
"What did she tell you?"
"To say I was good."
His throat tightened.
"And were you?"
Lily thought seriously about it.
"I tried."
Ethan almost broke.
He pulled her against him.
"You were always good."
Lily didn't answer.
He held her until her breathing slowed.
Eventually, exhaustion overtook her.
Her eyes closed against his chest.
Even asleep, one hand remained wrapped around his shirt.
Ethan waited twenty minutes before carefully laying her down.
Her fingers immediately tightened.
"Daddy?"
"I'm here."
Her eyes opened.
"Are you going away?"
"No."
"Tomorrow?"
"No."
"Promise?"
The word hurt.
Ethan sat beside her.
"I'm staying tonight. When you wake up, I'll be here."
She studied him.
"Okay."
He waited until she slept again.
Then he took out his phone.
He searched his contacts.
Maggie Lewis.
His thumb hovered over the number.
Four months.
He hadn't called her once.
Ethan pressed it.
The phone rang.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
"Hello?"
The voice sounded older than he remembered.
"Maggie?"
Silence.
"It's Ethan."
More silence.
Then:
"Is Lily okay?"
Not hello.
Not how are you.
Her first question was about Lily.
Ethan stood slowly.
"I don't know."
He heard Maggie inhale.
"What happened?"
"I came home early."
Silence again.
A different kind this time.
Ethan walked toward the window.
"I found her kneeling in front of Claire."
Maggie said nothing.
"She was polishing Claire's shoes."
A sound came through the phone.
A broken breath.
"Maggie?"
"I'm here."
"Lily said Claire hid her pictures."
The silence became unbearable.
"Maggie."
"Yes."
"What pictures?"
When Maggie finally spoke, her voice trembled.
"Oh, Ethan."
He closed his eyes.
"What?"
"I tried."
His stomach dropped.
"Tried what?"
"I tried to tell you."
Ethan gripped the phone.
"Tell me what?"
Another long pause.
May you like
Then Maggie said the words that would divide Ethan Whitmore's life into everything before that night and everything after it.
"I've been waiting four months for you to make this call."
