Chapter 1 - The Bunny on the Floor
The first thing I saw was the bunny on the floor.
The second thing I saw was my four-year-old daughter pressed against the dining-room wall like she was trying to disappear into it.
“Lily?”
Her face snapped toward me. Tears ran down both cheeks. One hand was over her mouth. The other pointed toward the hallway.
Then she whispered the sentence that changed everything.
“She’s not my new mommy.”
I dropped my briefcase.
“What happened?”
Lily scrambled for the stuffed bunny, hugged it so hard its long ears bent under her chin, and shook her head.
“Sweetheart, look at me.” I crouched in front of her. “Did you fall? Did somebody scare you?”
Her eyes slid toward the hallway again.
“She scares me when you’re gone.”
My stomach went cold.
Claire had been living with us for three months. She was supposed to become my wife in six weeks. She had spent the last year learning Lily’s favorite cereal, braiding her hair badly on purpose so Lily could laugh, showing up at preschool with cupcakes, and telling everyone who would listen that she couldn’t wait to be a family.
I wanted to believe there was an explanation.
Then I noticed Lily’s bare feet.
She hated walking barefoot downstairs. Always had. But her little pink slippers were missing.
“Where are your slippers?”
Her mouth tightened.
“Laundry room.”
“Why?”
“She said I had to stay there until I learned.”
“Learned what?”
Lily looked down at the bunny.
“To stop telling you things.”
I stood so fast the chair behind me scraped the hardwood.
The television was mounted on the living-room wall. Our security system recorded the exterior doors, garage, nursery hallway, kitchen, and laundry room. Claire had complained about the indoor cameras when she moved in. I’d told her they were mostly for Lily and the house staff.
Now my hands shook as I opened the app.
“Daddy?”
“I’m right here.”
I pulled up the laundry-room feed.
6:18 p.m.
Claire appeared in black and white.
Lily stood beside the dryer clutching the bunny.
Claire leaned down until her face was inches from my daughter’s.
The microphone was weak, but I could still hear her.
“You tell him again,” Claire said softly, “and next time I won’t leave the door unlocked.”
My heart stopped.
Behind me, heels clicked on the hardwood.
“What are you watching?” Claire asked.
I turned.
May you like
She was smiling.
Then she saw the screen.
