Chapter 1 - The Easter Invitation
Three weeks earlier, Thomas Miller had been trimming the small rosebushes outside his house when Callie called.
Thomas lived alone in a modest brick home on the outskirts of Richmond, Virginia. It had two bedrooms, a narrow kitchen, and a porch that needed repainting. Simon had once described it as “a retirement box with curtains.”
Thomas had heard the insult.
He had chosen not to respond.
His house was small, but every corner of it held a memory. Callie’s childhood photographs lined the hallway. Her old bicycle remained in the garage. On the mantel stood a framed picture of Thomas, his late wife Evelyn, and twelve-year-old Callie during their last family vacation.
Thomas answered his phone with dirt still on his hands.
“Hello, sweetheart.”
“Dad, are you busy?”
Callie sounded cheerful, but Thomas noticed the hesitation behind her words.
“Never too busy for you.”
“Meredith is hosting Easter at the mansion. Simon thinks it would be good for everyone if you came.”
Thomas stared at the roses.
Simon had never thought it would be good for Thomas to attend anything.
During the five years of Callie’s marriage, Thomas had been invited to Hawthorne Mansion only twice. The first time had been for the wedding reception. The second had been after Callie insisted he attend a charity dinner.
At that dinner, Meredith had seated him near the service entrance.
“What changed?” Thomas asked.
“Nothing changed. Meredith just wants the family together.”
“Does she?”
Callie became silent.
Thomas wiped his hand on his jeans.
“Are you all right?”
“Of course.”
“You answered too quickly.”
“I’m just tired. Simon’s company is going through a difficult quarter. Everyone’s stressed.”
Thomas had spent most of his adult life listening to people conceal the truth. Some lied loudly. Others buried lies beneath details, excuses, and unnecessary explanations.
Callie was doing the second.
“Did Simon ask you to call me?”
Another pause.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He wants to apologize.”
Thomas almost laughed, but there was nothing amusing about it.
Two months earlier, Simon had forbidden Callie from visiting her father after Thomas questioned a bruise on her wrist. Callie claimed she had caught it on a cabinet handle.
Simon called Thomas controlling and paranoid.
Afterward, Callie’s calls became less frequent.
Now Simon wanted to apologize.
“All right,” Thomas said. “I’ll come.”
Callie released a quiet breath.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Thank you, Dad.”
Before ending the call, Thomas asked, “Do you remember the name of the first dog you ever wanted?”
Callie went silent again.
It was an old question from her childhood. After Evelyn died, Thomas had taught Callie that if she ever felt unsafe and could not explain why, she should work the answer into a conversation.
The dog had been named Bailey.
“Yes,” Callie said carefully. “But I think Meredith prefers the name Bella.”
Bella meant she was uncomfortable but not in immediate danger.
Bailey meant she needed urgent help.
Thomas tightened his grip on the phone.
“I’ll see you on Easter.”
After the call ended, he remained beside the roses for several minutes.
Then he walked into his study, unlocked the lowest drawer of his desk, and removed a thin red notebook.
On the first blank page, he wrote:
Easter invitation. Callie used Bella. Simon requested my presence. Possible escalation.
He closed the notebook.
On his bookshelf was an old photograph of Thomas standing beside six other investigators outside a federal courthouse. He had not looked at it in years.
That afternoon, he called someone he had once trusted with his life.
“Ruiz,” a woman answered.
May you like
“Ana,” Thomas said. “I think it’s time to reopen the Vale file.”
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