Chapter 7
Her bed was empty.
The purple giraffe was gone.
So was her backpack.
Dad checked every room twice.
Then the backyard.
Then the garage.
“Lily!”
No answer.
My stomach turned to ice.
“She wouldn’t leave.”
Dad was already calling her name outside.
Mrs. Parker ran over in her robe.
“What happened?”
“We can’t find Lily.”
She went pale.
Dad called the police.
Then Amanda.
Amanda answered on the second ring.
“What?”
“Is Lily with you?”
Silence.
Dad’s entire body changed.
“Amanda.”
“She called me.”
Dad gripped the phone.
“Is she with you?”
“I was going to call.”
“Is she with you?”
“Yes.”
Dad closed his eyes.
I nearly collapsed with relief.
Then anger hit.
Dad said, “Bring her home.”
“She doesn’t want to come.”
“That’s not true.”
“Ask her.”
There was movement.
Then Lily’s voice.
“Daddy?”
Dad softened instantly.
“Sweetheart, are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“Where are you?”
“At Mom’s.”
“How did you get there?”
Silence.
“Lily?”
“I walked.”
Dad looked at me.
Amanda lived almost two miles away.
“You walked alone?”
“Most of it.”
“What does that mean?”
“A man helped me cross the big road.”
Dad’s face went white.
Mrs. Parker covered her mouth.
“Lily, listen to me. I am coming to get you.”
“No.”
“What?”
“I want to stay with Mom tonight.”
Dad looked stunned.
So was I.
“Why?”
Lily started crying.
“Because Mom said she might go away.”
Dad’s eyes closed.
Amanda took the phone.
“She showed up crying.”
Dad’s voice became hard.
“And instead of calling me immediately, you kept her.”
“I was comforting my daughter.”
“You knew we would be terrified.”
“It has been twenty minutes.”
“Twenty minutes?”
Dad looked at the clock.
We had searched for fifteen.
That meant Amanda really had only had Lily for a short time.
Still.
“She should have called.”
Amanda said, “I know.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
Silence.
Dad understood before I did.
“You wanted her to choose you.”
Amanda started crying.
“No.”
“You wanted to feel like she still needed you.”
“No.”
“Bring her home.”
“Ryan.”
“Now.”
Amanda hung up.
Dad called the police back and explained Lily had been located.
Then he drove to Amanda’s apartment.
He wanted me to stay with Mrs. Parker.
I refused.
“I want Lily.”
He looked at me.
“You’re scared.”
“Yes.”
He nodded.
“Okay.”
We went together.
Amanda opened the door.
Lily stood behind her wearing pajamas.
Her backpack was on the floor.
The purple giraffe was under her arm.
Dad dropped to his knees.
“Come here.”
Lily ran to him.
He hugged her.
Then he pulled back.
“You scared us.”
She started crying.
“I’m sorry.”
“You never leave the house alone.”
“I know.”
“You could have been hurt.”
“I know.”
Dad hugged her again.
Then he looked at Amanda.
“Why did she think you were going away?”
Amanda’s eyes dropped.
“I told her there was a chance I might move.”
“Where?”
“Colorado.”
Dad stared.
“Why?”
“My cousin offered me a job.”
Lily grabbed Dad.
“You can’t let her.”
Amanda said, “I told her I hadn’t decided.”
Dad looked furious.
“You told a six-year-old you might move across the country in the middle of all this?”
“I was trying to be honest.”
“No. You were making her afraid.”
Amanda’s face hardened.
“You don’t get to judge every word I say.”
“I get to judge words that make a child walk two miles alone at night.”
“I didn’t tell her to come here!”
“No. But you made her think she was losing you.”
Amanda looked at Lily.
“I wasn’t trying to.”
Lily cried harder.
“I don’t want you to go.”
Amanda knelt.
“Baby, I’m not going.”
“You said maybe.”
“I changed my mind.”
Dad stared at her.
“You changed your mind in the last twenty minutes?”
Amanda ignored him.
“I’m staying.”
Lily hugged her.
Dad looked away.
I understood his anger.
But I also understood Lily.
Amanda was her mother.
You could be angry at someone and still love them.
You could be afraid of them leaving even if they had hurt you.
I knew that better than anyone.
When Mom died, I became afraid everyone I loved would disappear.
Dad used to travel for three days and I would ask him ten times if he was coming back.
Maybe Lily was afraid too.
Dad eventually said, “We’re going home.”
Lily kissed Amanda.
Amanda looked at me.
“Ethan.”
I froze.
“I’m glad you’re okay.”
That was strange.
She meant because Lily had scared all of us.
I nodded once.
Then we left.
In the car, Lily sat beside me.
“I’m sorry.”
I didn’t answer.
She looked at me.
“Are you mad?”
“Yes.”
Her face fell.
“I thought Mom was leaving.”
“You could’ve told me.”
“You would’ve told Daddy.”
“Yes!”
“That’s why I didn’t tell you.”
I stared at her.
“You scared me.”
She whispered, “I’m sorry.”
I started crying.
“I thought she took you.”
Lily grabbed my hand.
“Mom wouldn’t kidnap me.”
I looked at her.
We both knew we weren’t completely sure.
She leaned against me.
“I won’t do it again.”
“You better not.”
“I promise.”
Dad looked at us in the mirror.
His eyes were wet too.
The next morning, Daniel heard what happened.
He called Dad.
“I need to tell you something.”
Dad sighed.
“What?”
“Amanda used to threaten to disappear with Lily whenever we fought.”
Dad became still.
“What do you mean?”
“She’d say I’d wake up one morning and they’d be gone.”
“Did she ever do it?”
“Once.”
Dad leaned against the counter.
“She left for two months. I didn’t know where they were.”
“When?”
“Lily was eleven months old.”
Dad looked toward the stairs.
“Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”
“Because every time I tell you something bad about Amanda, I sound like a bitter ex.”
“You need to stop deciding what information I deserve.”
Daniel sighed.
“You’re right.”
Dad rubbed his forehead.
“I don’t know who to trust.”
“Don’t trust me.”
Dad looked surprised.
Daniel continued.
“Trust documents. Trust professionals. Trust what Lily tells you. Trust patterns.”
Dad was quiet.
That was probably the smartest thing Daniel had said.
Over the next month, Dad did exactly that.
He stopped trying to figure out who the hero was.
He focused on facts.
Amanda continued counseling.
Daniel continued supervised visits.
Lily continued living with us under a temporary court arrangement while lawyers worked everything out.
I started seeing a therapist too.
At first, I hated it.
She asked too many questions.
Then she gave me a box of crayons and said I didn’t have to talk.
So I drew.
I drew our house.
Dad.
Me.
Lily.
Mrs. Parker.
I almost forgot Amanda.
Then I drew her outside the house.
My therapist asked, “Why is she outside?”
“Because I don’t want her inside.”
“Is she allowed to be outside?”
I thought.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Lily still loves her.”
My therapist nodded.
“And what do you feel?”
I drew a red line between Amanda and the house.
“I want a fence.”
“A boundary?”
“What’s that?”
She explained.
I liked that word.
Boundary.
A line that didn’t mean you hated someone.
It just meant they couldn’t come closer unless you felt safe.
That night, I told Dad.
“I want a boundary.”
He smiled.
“So do I.”
Two weeks later, the court hearing happened.
I didn’t go.
Lily didn’t either.
Dad did.
Amanda.
Daniel.
Lawyers.
A child advocate.
Dad came home late.
Lily ran to him.
“What happened?”
He sat down.
His face looked tired.
“A judge made a temporary decision.”
“Am I staying here?”
Dad nodded.
Lily hugged him.
“What about Mom?”
“You’ll still see her.”
“And Daniel?”
“You’ll still see him too.”
She frowned.
“That’s a lot of parents.”
Dad laughed.
“Yeah.”
Then I noticed something.
“What’s wrong?”
Dad looked at me.
“Nothing.”
“You have your bad face.”
“My what?”
“The face you make when you say everything’s okay but it isn’t.”
Lily nodded.
“You do have that face.”
Dad sighed.
“Amanda’s attorney brought up something.”
“What?”
He looked at me.
“You.”
My stomach tightened.
“What about me?”
“She says the recorder violated Amanda’s privacy.”
I stared.
“So?”
“So she’s arguing that some of what was recorded should not be used in family court.”
I didn’t understand.
“But it happened.”
“I know.”
“She said those things.”
“I know.”
“So why does it matter how we heard them?”
Dad sat beside me.
“Because courts have rules.”
I hated that answer.
“Then rules are stupid.”
“Sometimes rules are frustrating.”
I crossed my arms.
“Is Amanda coming back?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
That was enough for me.
Then Dad’s phone buzzed.
He looked at it.
His face changed.
“What?” Lily asked.
Dad turned the phone around.
A message from Amanda.
One sentence.
I found the original recorder.
Dad stood.
May you like
Because we all knew the recorder had burned.
Unless there had been another one.
