Chapter 13
Dad came home carrying anger like a storm.
I met him in the foyer.
“They knew?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“We’re still determining that.”
“You said there was a picture.”
He handed me a printed copy.
I was walking through Westbridge’s front gate.
My old backpack over one shoulder.
My mother’s maiden name on the registration folder in my hand.
Across the bottom someone had written:
HARRISON GIRL - OBSERVE ONLY.
I stared at it.
“Observe?”
Dad nodded.
“Another note was added two days later.”
He gave me a second photograph.
This one showed me outside chemistry class.
The handwriting read:
NO CONTACT. BLAKE CHILD NOT INFORMED.
My chest tightened.
“Madison really didn’t know.”
“Apparently not.”
“Then who did?”
“Mercer almost certainly.”
“Dalton?”
“Likely.”
“Richard?”
Dad’s jaw tightened.
“That’s the question.”
Claire entered behind him.
“We know someone inside Harrison gave Westbridge Avery’s enrollment information.”
Dad looked toward her.
“You confirmed?”
“Yes.”
My stomach turned.
“How?”
“The photograph file contained metadata.”
I didn’t understand.
Claire explained.
“It had been uploaded to a restricted Harrison Outreach server before being printed.”
Richard’s division.
“So Richard knew?”
“Maybe.”
Dad hated saying maybe as much as I hated hearing it.
Claire continued.
“The server login belonged to an administrative assistant named Rebecca Shaw.”
Dad frowned.
“I don’t know her.”
“I do,” Claire said.
“She worked for Richard.”
“Worked?”
“She resigned yesterday.”
Of course she did.
“Can anyone find her?”
“Her apartment is empty.”
I sat down.
Everyone was disappearing.
Richard.
Victor.
Dalton.
Rebecca.
Maya had vanished eighteen months earlier.
It felt like pulling one thread and watching an entire fabric unravel.
“What were they observing me for?”
Dad sat beside me.
“We don’t know.”
I looked at him.
“What if they wanted to use me against you?”
His eyes darkened.
“That possibility is being treated seriously.”
I laughed without humor.
“So your rule worked backward.”
“What?”
“You wanted nobody to know I was your daughter.”
“But the dangerous people knew.”
“Yes.”
“And I didn’t.”
The guilt on his face returned.
I regretted saying it.
But I couldn’t pretend.
“I’m angry.”
“You should be.”
“At you.”
“I know.”
“At Mom for dying.”
His face broke.
I began crying.
The words had come from nowhere.
“I know that’s stupid.”
“No.”
Dad pulled me against him.
“I’m angry at her sometimes too.”
That shocked me.
“You are?”
“Yes.”
“But she didn’t choose it.”
“I know.”
He held me tighter.
“Grief doesn’t care whether anger makes sense.”
I cried into his shirt.
For nine years, Dad and I had been careful around Mom’s memory.
We talked about her lovingly.
Safely.
Never angrily.
Maybe safe grief wasn’t complete grief.
Claire quietly left us alone.
After I calmed down, Dad wiped my face.
“I should have told you more about the risks around our family.”
“I should have told you sooner that Madison was bullying people.”
“We’re both collecting mistakes.”
“That sounds healthy.”
“It’s apparently genetic.”
My phone rang.
Madison.
I answered.
“Hey.”
Her voice was tense.
“My dad contacted me again.”
Dad immediately leaned closer.
“What did he say?”
“He wants to meet.”
“Where?”
“He wouldn’t tell me until I agreed.”
Dad mouthed no.
I ignored him temporarily.
“Did you agree?”
“Yes.”
Dad closed his eyes in frustration.
Madison continued.
“He gave me instructions.”
“What instructions?”
“Drive to a gas station in Pasadena at ten tonight. Leave my phone. Someone will pick me up.”
Absolutely not.
“You’re not going.”
“I have to.”
“No.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I understand your father is a fugitive.”
“He says he has Maya.”
Silence.
I stopped breathing.
Dad took the phone from me.
“Madison, repeat exactly what he said.”
She began crying.
“He said, ‘If you want the Bennett girl to come home, stop talking to police and come alone.’”
Dad stood.
“Did he say she is alive?”
“No.”
“Did you ask?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“He said I could see for myself.”
My heart hammered.
Dad put the call on speaker.
“Madison, you are not going alone.”
“If he sees police—”
“He may be lying.”
“What if he isn’t?”
I understood her.
Dad did too.
His face showed it.
“We involve law enforcement,” he said.
Madison panicked.
“No.”
“You called Avery because you needed help. This is the help.”
“My dad said—”
“Your father is suspected of serious crimes.”
“He’s still my dad!”
Her voice cracked.
The room went quiet.
Dad softened.
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I’m a father.”
Madison sobbed.
“If Avery was in trouble, you’d go.”
Dad looked at me.
“Yes.”
“Even if it was dangerous.”
“Yes.”
“Then why can’t I?”
“Because loving your child sometimes means doing dangerous things.”
He paused.
“Loving your parent does not require obeying them when they put you in danger.”
Madison went quiet.
I watched Dad.
That line wasn’t just for her.
It was everything he wished someone had taught her sooner.
Eventually Madison agreed to cooperate.
Federal agents prepared controlled surveillance.
She would go to the gas station.
But not alone.
Not really.
They placed a tracker inside her shoe.
Officers monitored from unmarked vehicles.
Dad insisted I stay at command.
I agreed because this wasn’t my rescue mission.
It was Madison’s father.
Her choice.
At 9:58 p.m., Madison arrived.
We watched through distant cameras.
She left her phone near a trash can as instructed.
At 10:06, a dark sedan pulled beside her.
A man stepped out.
Not Richard.
Madison hesitated.
Then got inside.
The sedan drove east.
Agents followed.
My eyes stayed glued to the tracker.
Ten miles.
Twenty.
Then north toward the mountains.
Dad stood behind me with his arms folded.
Nobody spoke.
At 11:12, the sedan stopped near an industrial property.
Agents positioned around it.
Madison entered a warehouse.
Her hidden microphone transmitted static.
Then a voice.
Richard.
“Baby.”
Madison started crying.
“Dad.”
“Come here.”
A pause.
Then Madison asked the question we were all waiting for.
“Where’s Maya?”
Richard didn’t answer.
“Dad.”
His voice changed.
“You shouldn’t have told them about the drive.”
Madison gasped.
“How did you know?”
Silence.
Then another voice entered.
Female.
Calm.
Familiar.
Ms. Dalton.
I stood so fast my chair fell backward.
She was there.
Alive.
Free.
Madison whispered, “You.”
Dalton replied.
“You always were the weakest one.”
Then we heard Richard shout.
“What are you doing?”
A crash.
Madison screamed.
Agents moved.
The warehouse feed exploded with voices.
“Federal agents!”
“Hands!”
“Get down!”
Gunfire did not follow.
Thank God.
Thirty seconds later, an agent reported Richard was in custody.
Dalton too.
Madison was safe.
I nearly collapsed.
Then the lead agent came over the radio.
“We have another person inside.”
My heart stopped.
Dad stepped toward the speaker.
“Female?”
“Yes.”
“Age?”
“Approximately nineteen.”
I grabbed Dad’s arm.
The agent continued.
“She appears malnourished and disoriented.”
Dad’s eyes filled.
“What’s her name?”
Static.
May you like
Then the answer.
“She says her name is Maya Bennett.”
