Chapter 8
The timestamp skipped forward. 2:00 PM. 3:30 PM. 4:45 PM.
Then, the white van entered the frame. It crawled out of the shadows, stopping directly in front of the pillar. The side door slid open. A shadowy figure leaned out. On the screen, Lily pressed herself so hard against the concrete she looked like a drawing.
A collective, horrified gasp sucked all the oxygen out of the room. Chloe clamped a hand over her mouth, tears instantly spilling down her cheeks. Michael pushed his chair back so violently it tipped over, hitting the floor with a loud crack.
I paused the video on the frame of the white van. I looked up at Eleanor.
Her face had turned the color of wet ash. The theatrical tears were gone. Her lips were parted, but no sound came out.
“She didn’t run away,” I said, leaning over the table until I was inches from her face. “You took her down to an abandoned, subterranean garage with no cell service. You abandoned her. And you came here, drank wine, and lied to your children while a predator tried to lure her into a van.”
“I…” Eleanor stammered, her eyes darting around the room, desperately looking for an ally. She found none. The judgment radiating from her own children was a physical weight. “I was just trying to teach her a lesson! She wouldn’t stop whining about some stupid doll! I was going to go back for her after I bought a pair of shoes, but I forgot which level—”
“You left a six-year-old in a dark basement for five hours because she asked for a toy!” Michael roared, his voice cracking with disbelief.
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Eleanor stood up abruptly, her chair screeching against the floorboards. The matriarch was cornered, and the venom finally spilled out.
“Don’t you dare judge me!” she spat, pointing a shaking finger at David. “I raised you! I made you who you are! If Emily had disciplined her properly at home, I wouldn’t have had to step in! Children need to know their place!”
