Chapter 1 - THE PHOTOGRAPH
The ambulance left Hawthorne Crest with Sarah sitting beside Lily.
For the entire ride, Sarah held her daughter’s hand and stared at the six-year-old’s closed eyelids.
The paramedic kept asking questions.
Had Lily fallen?
Had she taken medication?
Had she lost consciousness immediately?
Was there vomiting?
Did Sarah know what object had caused the swelling?
Sarah answered what she could.
The question she could not answer was the simplest one.
Who had done it?
Patricia had admitted that Lily “deserved” whatever had happened.
Robert had mocked his unconscious granddaughter.
But neither one had said who struck her.
Sarah had heard no confession.
Only cruelty.
Daniel followed the ambulance in his car.
Police remained at the mansion.
The birthday decorations stayed hanging over the marble foyer like decorations in a house where something had died.
At St. Matthew’s Children’s Hospital, Lily was rushed through double doors.
Sarah was stopped at the trauma unit entrance.
A nurse touched her shoulder.
“We need room to work.”
“That’s my daughter.”
“I know.”
“I need to stay with her.”
“You will. But right now the doctors need to examine her.”
The doors closed.
Sarah stood beneath the fluorescent lights with Lily’s stuffed bunny pressed against her chest.
It smelled faintly like the strawberry shampoo she had used on Lily that morning.
Nine hours earlier, Lily had danced through their small apartment wearing her yellow unicorn dress.
She had asked Sarah whether Grandma Patricia would like her birthday drawing.
Sarah had lied.
“Of course she will.”
Lily had drawn four people standing beneath a rainbow.
Sarah.
Lily.
Patricia.
Robert.
Above them, in a child’s uneven handwriting, Lily had written:
MY FAMILY.
Sarah wanted to tear the memory out of her own head.
The elevator doors opened.
Daniel hurried toward her.
He was thirty years old, six years younger than Sarah, with their father’s height and their mother’s dark hair.
He still held the photograph.
Sarah looked at it.
“Where did you get that?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Upstairs.”
“Where?”
“Dad’s study.”
“That study was locked.”
Daniel opened his hand.
The silver key lay against his palm.
Sarah remembered seeing Patricia’s fingers tighten when Daniel appeared with it.
“What does that key open?”
“A cabinet behind the bookshelf.”
Sarah stared at him.
“What were you doing in there?”
“Looking for something.”
“What?”
Daniel looked toward the trauma doors.
“Proof.”
Sarah’s throat tightened.
“Proof of what?”
He glanced around the hospital corridor.
“Not here.”
“Daniel.”
“Sarah, Mom and Dad have lawyers. They have connections. Dad already called somebody before the police finished taking statements.”
“What does that have to do with this?”
“Everything.”
He handed her the photograph.
Sarah did not want to take it.
But she did.
The picture was old enough that the colors had softened.
She was eight.
Her hair was longer.
She lay asleep beneath a white blanket in the upstairs guest room at Hawthorne Crest.
A bruise covered her left cheek.
Patricia stood beside the bed.
Robert stood near the window.
Neither was looking at Sarah.
Both were looking at the camera.
Sarah turned the photograph over.
There was handwriting on the back.
December 14.
Lesson 3.
Successful.
Sarah stopped breathing.
Daniel whispered, “There were more.”
“How many?”
“I don’t know. I only had about two minutes before Aunt Evelyn came upstairs.”
“More pictures of me?”
“Of us.”
Sarah looked at him.
Daniel swallowed.
“And other children.”
The trauma doors opened.
A doctor approached.
Sarah rushed forward.
Dr. Elena Morris introduced herself, but Sarah barely heard the name.
“Your daughter is stable.”
Sarah closed her eyes.
The doctor continued.
“She has a concussion, extensive soft tissue trauma, and a small fracture near the cheekbone. We’re keeping her for observation. Right now, there’s no sign of bleeding in the brain.”
Sarah’s legs weakened.
Daniel caught her elbow.
“Can I see her?”
“In a few minutes.”
Sarah looked at the doctor.
“Could an injury like this come from a fall?”
Dr. Morris paused.
“One injury might. The overall pattern concerns me.”
“What pattern?”
The doctor lowered her voice.
“There are marks on both of Lily’s upper arms. Finger-shaped bruising. Someone appears to have restrained her.”
Daniel looked away.
Sarah felt the air disappear from the corridor.
“There’s something else,” Dr. Morris said.
“What?”
“We found an older bruise behind her shoulder.”
Sarah frowned.
“Older?”
“Several days old.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Has Lily stayed with anyone recently?”
Sarah opened her mouth.
Then remembered.
Three nights earlier, Sarah had been called into work unexpectedly.
Patricia had offered to watch Lily for two hours.
When Sarah picked her up, Lily had been unusually quiet.
She said she was tired.
Sarah had believed her.
Dr. Morris watched Sarah’s face.
“Mrs. Collins?”
Sarah looked at Daniel.
He was already watching her.
“When did you start searching Dad’s study?” she asked.
Daniel’s answer made her stomach turn.
“Three weeks ago.”
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“Why?”
“Because Lily told me Grandma has a punishment room.”
