Chapter 6 - The Night Noah Revealed Another Secret
I wanted to move.
That was my first thought when we left the station.
Not change the locks.
Not install cameras.
Move.
I didn’t want to sleep in a house Melissa might have entered without permission.
Ryan felt the same way.
“We stay at a hotel tonight.”
“Noah hates unfamiliar rooms.”
“Then Dad’s.”
I shook my head.
“Mom has a key.”
“I’ll change his locks too.”
Under any other circumstances, I might have smiled.
I didn’t.
We drove home in silence.
Before dark.
I had promised Noah.
Dad was sitting on the floor playing with him when we walked in.
Noah ran to me.
“You came back.”
I picked him up.
“I told you.”
He wrapped his arms around my neck.
That was when I decided Melissa would not take our home from him too.
Maybe later we would move.
But not because she scared us out.
I told Ryan.
He stared at me.
“You sure?”
“No.”
That was the truth.
“But I want Noah to see us make this place safe again.”
Ryan considered it.
Then nodded.
“We change every lock tonight.”
“And the alarm code.”
“And cameras.”
“Yes.”
Dad looked confused.
“What happened?”
I didn’t want to discuss the secret entries around Noah.
I told Dad quietly in the kitchen.
He went pale.
“She came in here?”
“Apparently.”
“Why?”
“We don’t know.”
Dad gripped the counter.
“What was on the video?”
“Police didn’t describe all of it.”
Ryan corrected me.
“They said she was in the kitchen with Noah.”
Dad looked at us.
“Was he alone?”
I shook my head.
“We don’t know.”
Then Noah called from the living room.
“Mom?”
I went immediately.
He was holding two toy cars.
“Can Grandpa sleep here?”
I glanced at Dad.
Dad’s face crumpled for half a second.
“If Mom and Dad say yes.”
Ryan nodded.
“One night.”
Dad looked grateful for more than the invitation.
That evening, a locksmith changed every exterior lock.
Ryan installed temporary cameras from a hardware store.
I stood beside him as he placed one near the back door.
“Melissa knew where the spare key was.”
“I know.”
“My mom knew too.”
“I know.”
“You think Mom gave it to her?”
Ryan stopped.
I didn’t want to think it.
But I had to.
“No.”
“Because you know, or because you hope?”
I looked at him.
“I hope.”
He resumed tightening the camera mount.
At eight, my mother called Dad.
He stepped into the dining room.
I could still hear her raised voice.
“How can you shut down the center?”
Dad answered quietly.
“Because children may have been hurt.”
“You’re ruining Melissa.”
“No.”
“You’re helping them build a case against your own daughter.”
“I am helping investigators find the truth.”
“What happened to family?”
Dad’s voice changed.
“Family is why I should have protected those kids better.”
Silence.
Then Mom said, “Melissa needs money for an attorney.”
I watched Dad’s face.
“No.”
My eyebrows rose.
Mom apparently had the same reaction.
“No?”
“I will not pay for an attorney to attack Noah.”
“She has rights.”
“She can hire counsel. I’m not funding it.”
“Frank, she’s your daughter.”
“And Noah is my grandson.”
I had never heard Dad speak to her that way.
Neither had Mom.
“You’ve been talking to Sarah.”
Dad looked toward me.
“No. I’ve been looking at myself.”
He ended the call.
For a moment, none of us spoke.
Then Noah yelled from the couch.
“Grandpa, dinosaur show!”
Dad wiped his eyes.
“Coming.”
I followed him.
Ryan touched my shoulder.
“Your dad is trying.”
“I know.”
That night, Noah refused to sleep upstairs.
We didn’t push.
The three of us slept in the living room.
Ryan on one couch.
Me on the other.
Noah on a mattress between us.
Dad took the guest room.
At two in the morning, I woke to a soft whimper.
Noah was dreaming.
“No.”
I sat beside him.
“Baby.”
He jerked awake.
“Mom?”
“I’m here.”
His eyes searched the dark room.
“Did I spill it?”
My chest tightened.
“What?”
“The juice.”
“Noah.”
“I didn’t mean to.”
He started crying.
I pulled him against me.
“Listen to me. Spilling juice is not bad.”
“But Aunt Melissa got mad.”
“That was her choice.”
“She said grown-ups get mad when kids don’t listen.”
“Grown-ups can feel angry.”
I kissed his hair.
“But they are still responsible for what they do.”
He was quiet.
Then he whispered, “She came here before.”
My body froze.
I kept my voice gentle.
“When?”
He rubbed his eyes.
“Before your airplane.”
I wanted to ask ten questions.
The social worker’s warning echoed in my head.
Don’t repeatedly question him.
So I said, “Thank you for telling me.”
“She said it was a secret.”
“You never have to keep secrets that scare you.”
He nodded against me.
Then he added, “Grandma was here.”
My blood went cold.
I stared into the darkness.
“What?”
He yawned.
“Grandma was here with Aunt Melissa.”
I didn’t ask more.
I couldn’t.
My hands were shaking.
Ryan had heard.
He sat up slowly on the other couch.
Our eyes met.
Neither of us spoke until Noah fell asleep again.
Then Ryan whispered, “Call the detective.”
“At two in the morning?”
“Yes.”
I did.
Detective Morales answered on the fourth ring.
I apologized.
He told me not to.
I repeated exactly what Noah had said.
Morales went quiet.
“Don’t ask him for details.”
“I didn’t.”
“Good.”
“Detective.”
“Yes?”
“Do you know if my mother was on that video?”
Another pause.
Too long.
“Sarah.”
My heart pounded at the use of my first name.
“Was she?”
“I was planning to speak with you tomorrow.”
My mouth went dry.
“That means yes.”
“The footage shows a second adult entering the kitchen.”
“Is it my mother?”
“We believe so.”
Ryan closed his eyes.
I pressed my hand against my forehead.
“What were they doing?”
“We need to finish reviewing the footage before discussing conclusions.”
“Was Mom hurting Noah?”
“We have not seen that.”
I exhaled.
It was the smallest relief imaginable.
Then Morales continued.
“But your mother appears to hand Melissa an envelope.”
“What was in it?”
“We don’t know.”
“Why does that matter?”
“Because approximately twenty minutes later, Melissa is recorded photographing documents in your home office.”
I stared toward the hallway leading to my office.
“What documents?”
“We’re trying to determine that.”
My mind raced.
Work files?
Bank statements?
Insurance?
Then Ryan whispered, “The trust.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
His face had gone pale.
“Your dad’s trust documents.”
I remembered.
Dad had asked me to keep a copy months earlier because he was reorganizing his estate.
I had placed the envelope in the bottom drawer of my filing cabinet.
The detective heard Ryan.
“What trust?”
I told him.
Silence followed.
May you like
Then Morales asked a question that made every piece shift again.
“Who inherits the daycare if something happens to your father?”
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