Chapter 3 - THE QUIET ROOMAt 2:00 in the morning, the hospital finally became quiet.
Not peaceful.
Quiet.
There was a difference.
Peace meant safety.
Quiet meant waiting for the next terrible thing.
Lily slept curled beside me on a foldout chair, her head resting against my ribs. Drew had been given medication for pain and was asleep in the room across the hall.
I couldn’t stop staring at my phone.
Detective Holt had not called again.
At 2:43, it finally rang.
“We found the room.”
I stood immediately.
“What was inside?”
“We’re still processing it.”
“What did you find?”
He hesitated.
“Nothing I want discussed where the children might overhear.”
That answer terrified me more than details would have.
“Is Reena there?”
“No.”
“Do you know where she is?”
“We’re trying to locate her.”
I moved farther down the hallway.
“What about the cameras?”
“Several were removed recently. But the wiring remains.”
“Recently?”
“Very recently.”
“How recently?”
“Within the last day or two.”
My stomach turned.
Reena had known.
Maybe the second she realized the children were gone.
Maybe before they ever reached my porch.
“What was behind the panel?” I asked.
“A digital recorder.”
My breath stopped.
“Footage?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“Can it be recovered?”
“We’re working on it.”
Before hanging up, Holt added:
“There’s something else. Does the name Trent Maddox mean anything to you?”
I frowned.
“No.”
“Think.”
Then I remembered.
“A handyman.”
“You know him?”
“Reena mentioned him a few times. After Aaron died, she said Trent helped fix things around the house.”
“Do you know where he lives?”
“No.”
Holt thanked me and ended the call.
I immediately searched my old messages.
Reena and I had barely spoken beyond birthdays and holidays.
Then I found it.
A photo from almost two years earlier.
Reena standing beside a new backyard fence.
A man in a work shirt was visible behind her.
Tall.
Dark hair.
Heavy shoulders.
Caption:
Finally got Trent to finish the fence! Kids can’t escape now. LOL.
At the time I had taken it as a joke.
Now I stared at those words until my hands shook.
Kids can’t escape now.
I sent the screenshot to Holt.
At sunrise, the hospital social worker brought coffee.
I didn’t drink it.
Michelle sat beside me.
“Emergency placement has been approved.”
“What does that mean?”
“The children will not be returned to Reena when discharged.”
My whole body sagged with relief.
“Where will they go?”
Michelle looked at me.
“That depends.”
“I want them.”
“I assumed you would.”
“I have a spare bedroom. Actually two. I have stable employment, no criminal record, I can—”
“Slow down.”
“I’m not letting strangers take them.”
“We’ll do everything we can to place them with safe family.”
Everything.
The word was not enough.
“I’m their aunt.”
“And you appear to be a strong placement option.”
“Appear?”
“There are procedures.”
Procedures.
I hated procedures.
Procedures had apparently allowed two children to disappear behind curtains for years.
Still, I understood.
Someone needed to make sure I was safe too.
By noon, the hospital completed Lily’s evaluation.
Her condition was worse than anyone first realized.
She wasn’t simply thin.
She had nutritional deficiencies suggesting prolonged food restriction.
The doctor asked if she was picky.
I almost laughed.
“No. She ate half a loaf of bread at my house.”
Lily heard us.
She looked down.
“Mommy says girls get fat.”
The doctor stopped writing.
I felt something inside me break.
“What else does Mommy say?”
Lily immediately became nervous.
“I don’t know.”
“That’s okay, baby.”
She whispered:
“Bad kids don’t need dinner.”
Michelle documented everything.
Later, Drew woke.
The first thing he asked was:
“Is Lily here?”
“Yes.”
“Did she eat?”
“Yes.”
Only then did he relax.
He was six years old.
And somehow, in that house, he had become Lily’s parent.
When the nurse brought lunch, Drew divided his sandwich in half.
“One for her.”
“She has her own lunch.”
He frowned.
“Her own?”
“Yes.”
He stared at the tray like it was magic.
Then he began crying.
Silently.
Tears running down his face while he ate.
I sat beside him and pretended not to notice until he was ready.
Finally he whispered:
“Mom says food costs money.”
“It does.”
“She says Daddy left because we cost too much.”
My jaw tightened.
“Aaron didn’t leave.”
Drew looked at me.
“He died.”
“Yes.”
“Mom says he died because he was tired of us.”
My breath caught.
“No.”
Drew flinched at my tone.
I softened immediately.
“No, sweetheart. Your dad loved you more than anything.”
His lower lip trembled.
“Really?”
I reached for my phone.
I had hundreds of photos of Aaron.
Videos too.
I opened one from Drew’s second birthday.
Aaron was holding him over his head, laughing while Drew squealed.
Another showed Aaron asleep on a couch with infant Lily lying on his chest.
Drew stared at the screen.
“He liked us?”
“He adored you.”
“He wasn’t mad?”
“Never.”
I felt anger burning behind my ribs.
Reena hadn’t only hurt their bodies.
She had rewritten their father.
That afternoon, Detective Holt returned.
He looked exhausted.
“Where’s Reena?”
“Located.”
My heart jumped.
“Arrested?”
“Being interviewed.”
“Why not arrested?”
“We’re building the case correctly.”
I hated the answer, but knew he was right.
“What did you recover?”
He sat.
“The basement room had been painted recently.”
“How recently?”
“Likely within forty-eight hours.”
He opened a folder.
“The flooring had been removed in one section. Hardware had been unscrewed from the wall.”
“The straps.”
“Possibly.”
He wouldn’t confirm.
“Then there’s the camera system.”
I waited.
“The recorder was damaged.”
Of course.
“But?”
Holt almost smiled.
“But people misunderstand digital storage.”
My heart began pounding.
“You recovered footage.”
“Some.”
“How much?”
“Enough to establish that the children spent extended periods in that basement.”
I closed my eyes.
“How long?”
“We’re still reviewing.”
“Detective.”
He looked away.
“One clip is over nine hours.”
My stomach rolled.
“Nine hours?”
“Drew appears to be five in that video.”
A year ago.
This had been happening for at least a year.
Maybe longer.
Holt continued.
“There’s no visible assault in that clip.”
I exhaled.
“However, he appears to be alone in the room for most of it.”
“Where was Lily?”
“We don’t know.”
Then he removed a photograph from the folder.
A small metal bracket on a wall.
“What is that?”
“We believe something was attached there.”
“The chair?”
“Maybe.”
Holt then said:
“We found another item.”
He showed me a child’s drawing recovered from behind a cabinet.
Three figures.
A tall woman.
Two children.
And a black square beneath the house.
Inside the black square, Drew had drawn himself.
Outside it, Lily was crying.
Across the top, in shaky letters:
BE GOOD OR MOMMY PUTS ME DOWNSTAIRS.
I covered my face.
“Why didn’t anybody see this?”
“That’s what we’re trying to understand.”
Then Holt’s phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed instantly.
“What?”
He stood.
“When?”
Another pause.
“Keep her there.”
He ended the call.
“What happened?” I asked.
Holt looked directly at me.
“Reena is at the courthouse.”
“What is she doing?”
“Filing for an emergency order.”
“Against who?”
“You.”
My blood ran cold.
“She’s claiming you abducted the children, manipulated Drew into making allegations, and have been stalking her family since your brother died.”
I stared at him.
“She’s trying to get them back.”
“Yes.”
“Can she?”
Holt’s jaw tightened.
“She can try.”
May you like
Then he looked toward Drew’s room.
“And based on the attorney she just hired, she plans to fight hard.”
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