Chapter 16 - The Wrong Kind of Courage

The staging room smelled of stale coffee and damp coats. Evelyn had brought Nora's yellow raincoat, the one investigators had released years earlier as personal property. She knew it was foolish to carry a coat that might not fit anymore, but she could not bear to arrive with empty hands. A young officer glanced at the sleeves and looked away. Nobody offered false reassurance. Evelyn was grateful for that.

“She's afraid of dark rooms,” Evelyn told Rachel. “After her mother died, she'd leave the hallway light on.”

Rachel repeated the detail over the radio so the medical team could use it if they reached Nora. Small things, Evelyn was learning, were not small to the person living through them.

Evelyn called Rachel before taking another step. Charles wanted her alone because he thought she would trade every rule for Nora. He was right about the love, wrong about the rest.

“I can help,” she said. “Tell me how.”

Rachel asked her to keep Charles talking if he called again. An officer drove Evelyn to a secure staging area where she could speak under supervision. The deed was ready, but it carried no legal effect without proper execution. The priority was keeping Charles occupied while the rescue team worked.

At the pier, Rachel saw movement behind a ferry window. A small figure in a sweatshirt. Then Charles's voice came over the phone: “Come down the gangway.”

“I want proof Nora is safe,” Evelyn said.

“You heard her.”

“Let me hear her again.”

“No games.”

“Charles, I've spent fifty years negotiating with men who thought threats were a personality. You're not special.”

He cursed. The call stayed open. That gave the team precious seconds.

Inside, Victor was staring at the child. Nora had wrapped her hands around the crayon as though it were a tool. “You told me if I was good, I'd go home,” she said.

Victor's face twisted. “I thought I could protect you.”

“Then open the door.”

Charles returned to the cabin, furious. “Take her to the lower deck.”

Victor did not move. “She's ten years old.”

“She's a problem.”

“No,” Victor said, surprising himself. “She's a kid.”

The two men struggled. A metal chair fell with a crash. Outside, officers heard Nora scream and moved in.

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Evelyn heard the noise through the phone, then a sharp silence. Charles whispered, almost tenderly, “You should have signed yesterday.”

The connection broke.