CHAPTER 3 ; SOMEONE TRIED TO TELL HIM
"I've been waiting four months for you to make this call."
Ethan stood beside Lily's bedroom window, staring into the dark lawn below.
For several seconds, he couldn't speak.
Behind him, Lily slept curled beneath her blanket, one small hand resting where his jacket had been moments earlier.
"What do you mean?" he finally asked.
Maggie was quiet.
"Ethan, is Lily safe right now?"
"She's with me."
"And Claire?"
"Downstairs."
"Then don't leave Lily alone with her."
The certainty in Maggie's voice frightened him more than shouting would have.
"Maggie, tell me what happened."
A long breath came through the phone.
"I don't think this should be done over the phone."
"Then tell me where you are."
Forty minutes later, Maggie Lewis stood outside Ethan's front gate.
Ethan met her himself.
The woman who stepped from the taxi seemed smaller than he remembered.
Her gray hair was tied loosely behind her head. She wore an old navy coat and held a brown envelope against her chest.
When she saw Ethan, there was no anger in her face.
That somehow made it worse.
"Where's Lily?"
"Sleeping."
Maggie's eyes moved toward the house.
"Does she know I'm here?"
"No."
"Good. Don't wake her."
Ethan opened the study door.
Maggie stopped at the threshold.
"I haven't been in this house since Claire told me to leave."
Ethan looked at her.
"You told me you wanted to retire."
"No."
One word.
No hesitation.
Ethan felt his stomach tighten.
"I received a message from your number."
"I never sent it."
Ethan looked down.
For years, he had built a company around identifying problems from incomplete information.
Yet inside his own home, he had accepted whatever explanation was easiest.
"Why did she fire you?"
Maggie sat.
"Because Lily started drawing."
Ethan stared at her.
"Children draw."
"Yes."
Maggie placed the brown envelope on his desk.
"But sometimes they draw what they can't say."
Ethan didn't touch it.
"Show me."
Maggie opened the envelope.
Inside was a folded sheet of construction paper.
She slid it toward him.
Ethan unfolded it.
Three figures had been drawn in crayon.
One was tiny.
One wore a red dress.
The third stood beneath a blue airplane.
Ethan recognized himself immediately.
Above the smallest figure was a crooked purple heart.
Across the top, in uneven letters Maggie had apparently helped Lily spell:
COME HOME DADDY
Ethan stared.
"She made this?"
"About five months ago."
His eyes remained on the picture.
"Why didn't I see it?"
"I put the first few on your desk."
"What first few?"
Maggie looked at him.
"There were more."
Ethan's throat went dry.
"How many?"
"I don't know. Twenty. Maybe thirty."
He looked up sharply.
"Thirty?"
"Not all at once."
Maggie folded her hands.
"At first, they were normal. She missed you. She drew airplanes because you were always flying somewhere. She drew herself waiting by the window."
Ethan looked down again.
"Then they changed."
"How?"
Maggie hesitated.
"Claire got bigger."
Ethan frowned.
"In the drawings."
She nodded.
"Lily started drawing Claire very large and herself very small. Sometimes there were doors between them. Sometimes Lily drew herself in closets or corners."
Ethan closed his eyes.
"And you didn't call me?"
"I did."
His eyes opened.
"What?"
"I called your office twice. I sent emails. I left messages."
"I never received them."
"I know."
"How?"
"I don't know."
Ethan did.
Or at least he was beginning to.
Claire had access to the household accounts.
She sometimes managed his personal calendar.
His assistant had been instructed to route family matters through Claire when Ethan was traveling because Ethan himself had approved that arrangement.
He remembered the conversation.
It'll make things easier, Claire had said.
And he'd agreed.
Easier.
That word suddenly disgusted him.
"What happened the day you left?"
Maggie's face tightened.
"I found Lily in the pantry."
Ethan stopped breathing.
"Why?"
"Claire said she needed a quiet place to calm down."
Maggie's voice hardened.
"I disagreed."
"What did Lily say?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"She wouldn't speak until Claire left the room."
Maggie looked toward the ceiling, as if she could somehow see Lily sleeping upstairs.
"Then she asked me if bad girls still got to have daddies."
Ethan turned away.
He couldn't let Maggie see his face.
For a moment, the room blurred.
He gripped the edge of his desk.
"I should have known."
"Yes."
The answer startled him.
He turned.
Maggie's eyes were wet, but steady.
"You should have."
No comforting lie.
No easy absolution.
"And so should I," she continued. "I should have pushed harder. I should have driven to your office. I should have called someone else when I couldn't reach you."
"You tried."
"So did Lily."
That landed harder.
Ethan looked at the drawing.
A four-year-old child had tried.
Again and again.
And the adults around her had failed to connect the pieces.
Maggie leaned forward.
"Don't waste tonight deciding which one of us should feel the guiltiest."
"What am I supposed to do with it?"
"The guilt?"
Ethan nodded.
"Use it tomorrow."
He looked at her.
"Children don't need adults to collapse because we failed them. They need us to change what happens next."
Ethan sat slowly.
Maggie touched the drawing.
"This wasn't the last picture Lily made for you."
Ethan swallowed.
"It was the first."
He looked toward the ceiling.
Somewhere above them, his daughter was sleeping.
And somewhere inside the house were all the things she had tried to tell him.
The next morning, Lily woke at 6:12.
Her eyes opened.
For one frightened second, she searched the room.
Then she saw Ethan asleep in the chair beside her bed.
Her body relaxed.
"Daddy?"
Ethan woke instantly.
"Hey, bug."
"You stayed."
It wasn't excitement in her voice.
It was surprise.
Ethan smiled, though something inside him broke again.
"I told you I would."
Lily considered that.
Then she lifted the blanket.
"You can come here."
Ethan climbed onto the edge of the bed.
Lily crawled into his arms.
After a moment, she noticed the construction paper on the nightstand.
Her body went still.
"Where did you get that?"
"Maggie kept it."
Lily touched the corner.
"You saw it?"
"I did."
She looked embarrassed.
"Sorry."
Ethan's chest tightened.
"For what?"
"I draw messy."
He stared at her.
Then he kissed her hair.
"Lily, you never have to apologize for showing me something."
She looked at the picture.
"I made more."
"I know."
"Claire said you didn't want them."
Ethan felt anger rise so quickly he had to control his breathing.
He would not make Lily responsible for his anger.
He lowered himself until they were eye level.
"Claire was wrong."
Lily watched him carefully.
"I want every picture you ever want to show me."
"Even ugly ones?"
"Especially ugly ones."
That earned the smallest hint of a smile.
It vanished almost immediately.
"I don't know where they are."
"We'll find them."
Lily shook her head.
"She moved them."
"When?"
"After Miss Maggie went away."
Ethan looked toward the door.
"Do you know where?"
Lily whispered:
"No."
May you like
Then, after a pause:
"But I saw the box."
