I stayed at the hospital until nearly noon.
Grant had remained on the phone with me while I waited, but after he told me what my mother had said, neither of us spoke for several seconds. The fluorescent lights above me hummed softly. Somewhere down the corridor, a cart squeaked across the tile.
“What exactly did she say?” I asked.
“She said you were making things worse.”
I looked toward the doors leading into Madison’s ward.
“Of course she did.”
“Claire.”
“She wants Lily back.”
“She said Lily belongs with family.”
I let out a breath that sounded almost like a laugh.
“That’s rich.”
Grant was quiet.
Then he said, “There was something else.”
My grip tightened around the phone.
“What?”
“She asked if I still had the blue envelope.”
I sat upright.
“What blue envelope?”
“She assumed I knew.”
“What did you tell her?”
“That I didn’t.”
For the first time since leaving my parents’ house, I felt something other than fear.
Confusion.
I had never heard of a blue envelope.
“What else did she say?”
“She told me not to let you open anything in the house.”
My stomach tightened.
“Anything where?”
“She didn’t say.”
I stood and walked toward the hospital entrance.
“Grant, I need to go back.”
“No.”
“I’m not going inside alone.”
“That’s not what I mean. You shouldn’t go back there at all.”
“I need to know what she’s talking about.”
“Then let the police search it.”
I knew he was right.
That did not make the waiting easier.
Bell met me outside the hospital twenty minutes later. I told him about the phone call. His expression changed when I mentioned the blue envelope.
“Did your mother use those exact words?”
“Grant heard them.”
Bell wrote something down.
“Do you know what she might mean?”
“No.”
“Did your parents keep important documents in the house?”
“Probably. Tax papers. Insurance. Things like that.”
“Could there be something belonging to your brother?”
“Yes.”
Bell folded the notebook shut.
“We found several boxes in the basement. Some contain documents. We’re cataloging everything.”
“Did you find an envelope?”
“Not that I’ve been told.”
I looked at him.
“Then why would she mention it?”
“That’s what we need to determine.”
He hesitated before adding, “There’s something else you should know.”
“What?”
“Your father has changed his story.”
I stared at him.
“About what?”
“About when he learned Madison was in the basement.”
My mouth went dry.
“What did he say?”
“He now claims he discovered her the night before you did.”
I closed my eyes.
“He lied.”
“He says he was afraid of Evan.”
I opened my eyes again.
“My father?”
Bell nodded.
“He says Evan threatened him.”
That sounded possible for exactly one second.
Then I remembered my father standing in the hallway.
Stop, Claire. You’re overreacting.
He had not looked afraid.
He had looked certain.
“Where is my mother?”
“She’s being interviewed.”
“Is she under arrest?”
“Not at this time.”
I looked through the hospital doors.
“Why not?”
“Because knowing something happened and participating in it are different questions legally.”
I understood that.
I hated it anyway.
Bell walked toward his vehicle, then stopped.
“Claire.”
I turned.
“If you go back to the house, call us first.”
“I won’t.”
He studied my face.
“You promise?”
“Yes.”
That afternoon, Grant brought Lily to see me.
She ran into my arms before he had fully opened the car door.
I held her tightly.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded against my shoulder.
“Daddy made pancakes.”
“Were they good?”
“No.”
Grant smiled.
“They were fine.”
Lily pulled back.
“Can we go home?”
The question landed harder than anything else had.
I brushed her hair away from her face.
“We’re going somewhere else for a while.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know yet.”
She looked toward Grant.
“Can I stay with Daddy?”
I swallowed.
“Of course.”
She nodded, relieved.
That evening, I stayed at a small motel near the hospital with Grant and Lily. We ate takeout in a room that smelled faintly of disinfectant and old carpet.
Lily watched cartoons with the volume low.
Grant sat beside me near the window.
“You should sleep.”
“I can’t.”
“I know.”
I told him about the blue envelope.
He frowned.
“Could your parents have had something belonging to you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Think.”
I closed my eyes.
Then I remembered.
“After the divorce, my father helped me move my things out of the house.”
Grant waited.
“He put some of my documents into boxes.”
“Which documents?”
“Bank statements. The settlement paperwork. Copies of Lily’s birth certificate.”
“Could one of those be blue?”
“Maybe.”
Grant looked toward Lily.
“Do you remember where those boxes went?”
“The basement.”
Neither of us spoke.
At ten that night, Bell called.
“We found the envelope.”
I sat up.
“Where?”
“In your parents’ bedroom.”
My pulse quickened.
“What was inside?”
“We’re not discussing evidence over the phone.”
“Please.”
A pause.
“There was a photograph.”
“Of what?”
“Your brother.”
My stomach dropped.
“And?”
“Madison.”
I stared at the wall.
“Together?”
“Yes.”
“How old was the photograph?”
“About six months, according to the metadata on the phone it was recovered from.”
I could barely breathe.
Six months.
That was before Madison disappeared.
Before I moved home.
Before Evan lost his job.
“What were they doing?”
Bell was silent for a moment.
“Standing outside a warehouse.”
My thoughts raced.
The warehouse where Evan had worked.
The missing inventory.
The investigation.
The money.
“Why would Evan have a picture of Madison?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“Does my mother know you found it?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
I looked at Lily asleep across the room.
Then I remembered something else.
Madison had told the nurse that I was the only person who had tried to help.
But when I had seen her in the basement, she had looked at me as though she recognized me.
Not from school.
Not from the neighborhood.
From somewhere else.
I whispered, “Bell.”
“Yes?”
“I think Madison may have known me before that night.”
There was a long silence.
Then he said, “That’s what we’re trying to establish.”
I ended the call.
Grant looked at me.
“What?”
I told him.
He stood.
“Claire, what if this started before you ever moved back?”
I looked toward the sleeping child.
That question followed me into the night.
Click here to continue reading: PART 6: The Photograph Was Only the Beginning, Because What We Found Behind It Explained Why Evan Had Been Watching Madison Long Before She Disappeared
I Thought Moving Back Home Would Be the Hardest Part of Starting Over, Until I Heard a Child Crying Beneath My Bedroom Floor
Part 5 of 12
