Chapter 8 - Claire’s Instructions
Rachel read Aubrey’s message at 5:47 a.m.
By six, she had called Lena.
By seven, both were sitting in a diner twenty minutes from Mitchell’s house.
Rachel placed her phone on the table.
Lena read the message twice.
“The door is not storage.”
Rachel nodded.
“And Aubrey has the key.”
“To what?”
“The safe-deposit box.”
Rachel took Claire’s old letter from her handbag.
The paper was creased from years of being opened and closed.
“My sister gave me this six months before she died.”
Lena read.
Rachel, if either man ever gets control of the children, do not move first unless Aubrey or Dylan comes to you. Mitchell knows I kept records. Ronald knows enough to be dangerous. If they believe you have anything, they will come after you instead of protecting the kids. Wait until the children reach for you. Then help them reach the box.
Lena looked up.
“Either man.”
Rachel’s eyes filled.
“I thought she was being paranoid.”
“Did you know Ronald was abusive?”
“No.”
“I tried to see them.”
“Why didn’t you petition for custody?”
“I considered it.”
Rachel shook her head.
“Ronald had no criminal record. The kids were fed. In school. Claire’s will named him temporary physical guardian if Mitchell remained under the existing family-court restrictions.”
“What restrictions?”
Rachel stared.
“You don’t know?”
Lena felt a chill.
“What restrictions?”
“Claire obtained an order during their divorce requiring supervised financial contact and limiting Mitchell’s unsupervised parenting time for six months.”
“Why?”
“Coercive control allegations. Financial abuse. Threats.”
“Was he convicted?”
“No.”
“Then the emergency custody judge may never have seen it.”
Rachel nodded.
“Especially if Mitchell filed in a different county and characterized the old case as resolved.”
Lena immediately opened her laptop.
Temporary emergency custody had been granted after photographs and a school counselor’s report documented injuries consistent with Ronald’s abuse.
The court had moved quickly.
Mitchell was the biological father.
No criminal convictions.
Stable house.
Employment.
The placement made sense on paper.
But emergency orders relied on incomplete information.
Lena found the older family-court file.
Restricted.
She requested access.
Then she called her supervisor.
“We need an unannounced welfare check.”
“Based on what?”
“Child communication suggesting confinement.”
“Do we have direct allegation?”
“No.”
“Visible injury?”
“Not yet.”
“Then do the check with another worker. If you hear or observe confinement, call law enforcement.”
Rachel stood.
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
“Those are my sister’s children.”
“And if Mitchell sees you, he may shut Aubrey down.”
Rachel hated it.
But understood.
Meanwhile, Aubrey stood in the hallway facing Mitchell.
“Tell me what you sent.”
“I didn’t send anything.”
Mitchell stepped closer.
Aubrey forced herself not to move.
“Do you know what your mother’s biggest problem was?”
“She trusted the wrong people.”
The answer came before Aubrey could stop it.
Mitchell’s face changed.
“Did Rachel tell you that?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
“My mom.”
His voice dropped.
“Claire is dead.”
Aubrey’s eyes filled.
“I know.”
“Dead people don’t protect anyone.”
Behind the locked door, Dylan began hitting the wood.
“Let me out!”
Mitchell looked toward it.
Aubrey moved between him and the door.
“Don’t.”
Mitchell almost smiled.
“You think you can stop me?”
“No.”
Aubrey’s voice shook.
“But I can remember.”
That stopped him.
“What?”
“Everything.”
She looked at him.
“If you hurt Dylan, I’ll remember.”
For a moment, neither moved.
Mitchell reached for the key.
Then the doorbell rang.
Once.
Twice.
Mitchell froze.
Aubrey’s heart jumped.
He looked through the upstairs window.
Two women stood outside.
Lena Brooks.
And another child welfare worker.
Mitchell swore quietly.
He turned toward Aubrey.
“You say Dylan is sick.”
She stared.
“You say he is sleeping.”
Aubrey looked at the locked door.
Mitchell’s voice hardened.
“You know what happens if you make trouble.”
The bell rang again.
He went downstairs.
Aubrey waited until he disappeared.
Then crouched by Dylan’s door.
“They’re here.”
“Who?”
“People who can help.”
“Then tell them!”
“I’m trying.”
Downstairs, Mitchell opened the door with a perfect smile.
“Ms. Brooks. I wasn’t expecting you.”
“That’s the point of an unannounced visit.”
Mitchell laughed politely.
“Of course.”
Lena entered.
“Where are the children?”
“Aubrey’s upstairs.”
“And Dylan?”
Mitchell did not hesitate.
“Sleeping. He has a stomach bug.”
Lena looked toward the staircase.
“Then I’d still like to see him.”
Mitchell’s smile remained.
“I’d rather not wake him.”
“I’m not asking you to.”
Upstairs, Aubrey heard the words.
Her heart pounded.
Mitchell stepped into the hallway ahead of Lena.
Aubrey stood near her bedroom.
Lena smiled gently.
“Hi, Aubrey.”
Aubrey looked at Mitchell.
Then at Lena.
“How are you?”
“Fine.”
“Where’s Dylan?”
Aubrey’s eyes moved toward the locked door.
Mitchell interrupted.
“As I said, he’s sleeping.”
Lena looked at the door.
“Is that his room?”
Mitchell answered too quickly.
“No.”
A tiny sound came from inside.
Tap.
Lena stopped.
Mitchell stopped.
Aubrey stopped breathing.
Then Dylan’s voice came through the wood.
“Aubrey?”
The hallway went silent.
May you like
Lena turned toward Mitchell.
“Open that door.”
