CHAPTER 3
Rosa Alvarez called me that afternoon.
I barely recognized her voice.
“Mr. Carter?”
“Rosa.”
There was silence.
Then she started crying.
“I’m sorry.”
Those were the first words she said.
Not hello.
Not how are you.
I’m sorry.
I stepped into my office and closed the door while Lily watched cartoons upstairs with a CPS-approved caregiver.
“Why are you sorry?”
“I should have called you.”
“Tell me what happened.”
Rosa took a shaky breath.
“I tried.”
“What do you mean?”
“Mrs. Carter watched Lily when you traveled. At first it was yelling. I thought maybe she was stressed.”
My stomach tightened.
“Then?”
“She started making Lily clean things when she was angry.”
“With hot water?”
“Sometimes.”
I closed my eyes.
“How long?”
“Months.”
The word hit me like a fist.
Rosa continued.
“She made her stand facing the wall. She took away food sometimes.”
My eyes opened.
“Food?”
“If Lily didn’t finish chores.”
“She’s four.”
“I know.”
Rosa began crying harder.
“I told Mrs. Carter I would tell you.”
“What happened?”
“She laughed.”
“Why?”
“She said you would believe your wife.”
The answer hurt because there was a chance Victoria had been right.
Rosa continued.
“I started taking pictures.”
“Do you still have them?”
“Yes.”
Every muscle in my body tightened.
“Where?”
“On an old phone.”
“Bring it to the police.”
“I’m scared.”
“Rosa, I’ll protect you.”
“She threatened my immigration status.”
I stood.
“What?”
“She said she knew people. She said she would tell the police I stole from you.”
“You never stole anything.”
“She put one of her bracelets in my purse.”
I felt sick.
“She framed you.”
“I found it before I left the house. I put it on her dresser. Then she fired me.”
“Why didn’t you call me afterward?”
“She sent me pictures of my son outside his school.”
I stopped breathing.
Victoria had never mentioned Rosa’s son.
“She said accidents happen to families who make trouble.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“Send everything to Rachel.”
“I already did.”
I nearly collapsed into my chair.
“Thank you.”
“No.”
Rosa’s voice broke.
“I should have done more.”
“You tried.”
“I left Lily there.”
“You were threatened.”
“She was a baby.”
“So is your son.”
Silence.
Neither of us knew what else to say.
Rachel arrived forty minutes later.
The photographs were worse than I expected.
Lily standing in a corner.
Lily holding a heavy laundry basket.
Red marks on Lily’s legs.
A photograph of Lily’s dinner plate with nothing but dry crackers while Victoria ate steak in the background.
And one photograph I could barely look at.
Lily asleep on the floor of the pantry.
Rachel watched me carefully.
“Daniel.”
I pushed the phone away.
“I need a minute.”
“You need to see one more thing.”
“I said I need—”
“One more.”
She played an audio recording.
Victoria’s voice filled the room.
Stop crying.
Lily sniffled in the background.
I want Daddy.
You don’t get Daddy.
He leaves because he doesn’t want to deal with you.
My stomach turned.
That was a lie.
A cruel, calculated lie.
Then Lily’s voice.
Daddy loves me.
Victoria laughed.
If he loved you, he would be here.
I stood so violently the chair fell backward.
Rachel stopped the recording.
“Daniel.”
“She told my daughter I didn’t love her.”
“I know.”
“She used my work against her.”
“I know.”
I walked toward the windows.
The Pacific looked calm beyond the glass.
I hated it.
How could the world look normal?
“How much does the police have?”
“Everything Rosa provided.”
“Enough to arrest Victoria?”
“The detective believes so.”
My phone rang.
Detective Aaron Blake.
I answered.
“Mr. Carter, we need to talk.”
“Tell me.”
“We obtained additional evidence from the house.”
“What?”
“The kitchen camera system.”
I frowned.
“Victoria disabled those cameras months ago.”
“Most of them.”
My pulse increased.
“There’s a secondary storage unit connected to your home security server.”
I remembered.
A backup system installed after a burglary scare.
I had completely forgotten it existed.
“What did you find?”
“We’re reviewing it.”
“Does it show Lily?”
“It shows portions of the kitchen.”
I gripped the desk.
“And Victoria?”
“Yes.”
I sat down.
“When?”
“Several incidents.”
My eyes closed.
Several.
Not one.
Not a misunderstanding.
Not a bad night.
A pattern.
Detective Blake continued.
“We are moving forward.”
“Arrest her.”
“That decision is being reviewed with the district attorney.”
I wanted to scream.
Instead, I asked, “What about Michael Hale?”
Silence.
“You know about him?”
“An old report.”
“We pulled it.”
“And?”
“It has similarities.”
Rachel stepped closer.
I put the call on speaker.
Detective Blake continued.
“Michael was ten when he was hospitalized with scald injuries to both hands.”
I looked at Rachel.
Exactly like Lily.
“The original statement said he knocked over boiling water,” Blake said. “A nurse reported that Michael privately blamed his older sister.”
“Victoria.”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“The mother, Evelyn Hale, insisted Michael had lied because he was angry.”
My jaw clenched.
“The investigation closed?”
“Eventually.”
“Where is Michael now?”
“We’re looking.”
After the call, Rachel placed another folder on my desk.
“What is that?”
“Victoria’s financial history.”
I opened it.
Transfers.
Cash withdrawals.
Payments to an entity called Coastal Family Consulting.
“What is this?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“How much?”
“Almost eighty thousand dollars over two years.”
“For what?”
“Still investigating.”
I flipped pages.
Then I saw a name.
Maria Santos.
My stomach dropped.
The same name Victoria had texted me.
“Rachel.”
“I saw it.”
“Who is she?”
“A former nanny.”
I looked up.
“We never had a nanny named Maria.”
“You didn’t.”
“What does that mean?”
“She worked for Victoria’s first husband.”
I froze.
Victoria had been married briefly in her twenties.
She told me the marriage ended because her husband cheated.
He had died in a boating accident years later.
“Did he have children?”
“One.”
My voice came out barely above a whisper.
“How old?”
Rachel looked at me.
“Five.”
The room went silent.
“Where is that child now?”
“I’m trying to find out.”
I thought about Victoria’s text.
Ask your precious daughter what really happened to Maria.
Michael lied too.
Suddenly Lily’s abuse was no longer an isolated horror.
There was Michael.
There was Maria.
And somewhere there might be another child.
I had believed the nightmare began in my house.
May you like
Now I understood something much worse.
My house might only have been the latest place Victoria brought it.
