Chapter 4 - The Letter Rebecca Never Sent
Daniel recognized Rebecca's handwriting before Naomi finished explaining where the photograph came from.
The capital letters leaned slightly to the right.
The letter D in his name always had an exaggerated curve.
Rebecca used to tease him about his terrible handwriting.
She'd written grocery lists on yellow notepads and tucked little messages into his coat pockets.
For five years, Daniel had kept one of those notes in his wallet.
Don't forget to eat lunch. Love you.
Now he was staring at a folder she'd apparently prepared before she died.
"Where is it?" he asked.
Naomi shook her head.
"Rosa didn't say."
"Call her again."
"I've tried."
"Then keep trying."
Peter Ellis stood beside Daniel's kitchen counter, examining the photograph.
They were inside Daniel's house for the first time since Lily's hospitalization.
Two police officers had accompanied them during an initial safety check.
Marissa was nowhere to be found.
Her clothes were gone.
So were several documents from Daniel's home office.
A small wall safe stood open.
Daniel stared at it.
"She knew where I kept the combination."
Peter looked up.
"What was inside?"
"Family records. Rebecca's jewelry. Some original insurance documents."
"Anything relating to her accident?"
Daniel thought for a moment.
"I kept the police report there."
Peter's expression changed.
"Was it still there?"
Daniel searched the empty safe.
"No."
Lily was spending the night with Daniel's sister, Rachel, under a temporary safety arrangement coordinated with the authorities.
Daniel had wanted to stay with her.
But Rachel, a pediatric nurse who lived forty minutes away, had insisted he needed to secure the house and speak to his attorneys.
"You can't protect her by collapsing," she'd told him.
"You need to figure out what that woman did."
Daniel had agreed.
It was the first sensible thing he'd done in days.
Still, every room in the house reminded him of Lily.
Her drawings were stuck to the refrigerator.
Her little pink jacket hung beside the front door.
A pair of glitter-covered sneakers rested beneath the bench.
He walked into her bedroom.
The bedspread was neatly tucked.
Her stuffed rabbit sat against the pillow.
On her desk lay a notebook filled with uneven handwriting.
Daniel opened it.
The first page had a drawing of three people holding hands.
A man.
A little girl.
A woman with long brown hair.
Above the woman, Lily had written Mommy in Heaven.
Daniel's throat tightened.
The second drawing showed a house.
Three windows.
Two people inside.
A tiny girl outside the front door.
Across the bottom were the words:
I wish Daddy would come home earlier.
Daniel sat on the edge of her bed.
For a long time, he couldn't move.
At 10:14 p.m., Naomi finally received another message from Rosa.
I'm safe. My nephew helped me.
Then a second.
Rebecca's folder is in a storage unit. Marissa doesn't know I have it.
Naomi immediately forwarded the information to Daniel and the investigator assigned to Lily's case.
An hour later, Rosa agreed to meet with Peter and a police detective at a twenty-four-hour diner.
She arrived wearing a gray sweatshirt and a baseball cap.
Her eyes were swollen.
She looked older than the woman in the photographs Daniel remembered.
"Mr. Bennett," she whispered.
Daniel stood.
"Rosa."
For a moment, neither knew what to say.
Then Rosa began crying.
"I tried to tell you."
Daniel's jaw tightened.
"I know."
"No, you don't."
She placed her purse on the table.
"Six months ago, I found Lily hiding in the laundry room. Marissa had locked the pantry because Lily spilled juice."
Daniel went very still.
"How long had she been there?"
"She said all morning."
Daniel stared at the table.
Rosa continued.
"I made her a sandwich. Marissa saw the plate in the sink and accused me of undermining her discipline."
"Why didn't you call me?"
"I did."
Daniel looked up.
"She answered your phone, Mr. Bennett. She told me you knew everything and supported her."
Daniel remembered the evening.
Marissa had casually mentioned that Rosa was becoming difficult.
She'd said the housekeeper was confusing Lily with mixed messages.
Daniel had been distracted by a major contract.
He'd told Marissa to handle it.
The memory made him feel ill.
Rosa reached into her purse.
Then she stopped.
The detective gently intervened.
"Mrs. Alvarez, let's document what you brought and how you obtained it."
Rosa nodded.
She handed over a key and a folded storage receipt.
"The folder is in Unit 214 at Northline Storage."
Daniel leaned forward.
"How did you get it?"
"Rebecca's mother gave it to me."
He stared at her.
"That's impossible."
"Why?"
"Rebecca's mother died before Lily was born."
Rosa shook her head.
"Not her mother. Her aunt, Evelyn Morgan. Rebecca called her Aunt Evie, but Lily always thought she was Grandma Evelyn."
Daniel remembered Evelyn.
A quiet woman who had attended Rebecca's funeral.
She'd moved to Arizona afterward.
"She gave you Rebecca's folder?"
"She mailed it to me four months ago."
"Why?"
"Because she found out where I was working."
The detective asked, "What did she say?"
Rosa unfolded a photocopied letter.
"She said Rebecca had been investigating something before her accident."
Daniel's pulse thudded.
"Investigating what?"
Rosa looked directly at him.
"An agency that was taking children away from their families."
The storage facility manager opened Unit 214 shortly after midnight, with the detective documenting the access.
Inside were four cardboard boxes, a battered suitcase, and a blue plastic container.
The yellow folder was inside the container.
Daniel recognized Rebecca's handwriting.
He also recognized the photograph taped to the inside cover.
Rebecca was standing beside another woman outside a modest suburban house.
The woman wore a navy blazer.
In her arms was a small boy.
On the back, Rebecca had written:
Sarah and Owen. April 2019.
Daniel felt his heart pound.
Owen Mercer.
Marissa's former stepson.
Peter studied the photograph.
"Rebecca knew Owen's mother."
Daniel opened the folder.
It contained correspondence, notes, financial records, and printed photographs of several families.
Rebecca had circled the same names again and again.
Adrian Vale.
Helen Voss.
Westbridge.
At the back was a letter addressed to Daniel.
His hands shook as he unfolded it.
Daniel,
I know how this looks. I know I've been distracted, and I know you're worried I'm spending too much time helping Sarah.
But something is wrong.
Parents are signing documents they don't understand. Children are being placed in programs their families can't easily visit. Money is moving through organizations that claim to protect them.
Sarah believes Adrian Vale is arranging the transfers. I think she's right.
I need proof before I take this any further.
I haven't told you everything because I know you would try to protect me, and I don't want you risking your business or your safety.
But if anything happens to me, please don't let anyone convince you that I imagined this.
And please protect Lily.
Daniel couldn't finish reading.
He handed the letter to Peter.
Then he turned away.
For five years, he'd believed Rebecca's final weeks had been consumed by stress, motherhood, and too much volunteer work.
Now he understood that she had been afraid.
And he hadn't known.
The detective examined the remaining documents.
Then he found a photograph clipped to an old event program.
Rebecca stood beside Sarah Mercer at a children's charity fundraiser.
Behind them were several volunteers.
One woman had dark hair pulled into a low bun.
She wore a green dress.
Daniel recognized her immediately.
Marissa.
He stared at the photograph.
"She told me she'd never met Rebecca."
Peter looked over his shoulder.
Daniel pointed.
"That's my wife."
The detective studied the image.
"When was this taken?"
"Seven years ago," Peter answered, reading the program.
Daniel slowly sat down on an overturned cardboard box.
Marissa had known Rebecca.
She had known Lily existed.
And three years after Rebecca's death, she'd somehow arranged to meet Daniel.
He looked at the folder again.
Then at the photograph.
May you like
His voice was barely audible.
"She didn't find me by accident."
