Chapter 7
The next three days were a blur.
The DA’s office moved fast.
They watched every minute of footage on Javier’s drive.
They saw Margaret kill Richard.
They saw her chain Lily to the porch step.
They saw her pay off the lab tech, the doctor, the cops.
They arrested Judge Crowe for accepting bribes from Margaret to rule in her favor at the custody hearing.
They arrested the chief of police and half a dozen officers who’d been on her payroll.
They arrested Lena at the hospital, where she’d gone to get her head stitched up, and charged her with the murder of Javier Mendez.
Margaret was charged with first-degree murder of Richard, attempted murder of me, child abuse, kidnapping, fraud, bribery, and a dozen other counts.
The DA said he was seeking life without parole.
No bail.
She was locked up in the maximum-security wing of the county jail, alone in a cell 23 hours a day.
The DNA results were officially entered into the court record.
Lily was declared the sole legal heir to Richard’s entire $2.3 billion estate.
Ben set up a trust for her, managed by him and me, until she turned 25.
We sold the mansion.
We sold all the fancy cars.
We donated half the money to children’s charities—domestic violence shelters, foster care programs, after-school programs for kids who needed a safe place to go.
Lily picked every single one.
We bought a small, yellow house with a big white porch on a quiet street by the beach.
It had a big backyard with a swing set and a garden where Lily could plant sunflowers.
It was nothing like the cold marble mansion.
It was ours.
Lily started second grade at the local public school.
She made friends right away.
A little girl named Zoe who lived two doors down loved unicorns just as much as she did.
They were inseparable.
The nightmares stopped after a few weeks.
She stopped waking up screaming in the middle of the night, scared Margaret was going to come take her.
She stopped asking if she was a bastard.
She stopped asking if I was really her mommy.
She was just a normal seven-year-old girl.
Who loved ice cream and glitter and chasing fireflies in the backyard.
I thought it was over.
I thought we’d won.
I was wrong.
It was a Tuesday night.
Lily was asleep in her room.
I was on the couch, watching a stupid reality show, eating leftover pizza.
My phone rang.
It was the warden at the jail.
“Mrs. Hale?” he said, his voice tight. “I have some bad news. Margaret Hale escaped approximately two hours ago. Two of our guards turned out to be on her payroll. They helped her out through the service entrance. We have every cop in the state looking for her, but I wanted to warn you. She’s dangerous. And we have reason to believe she’s coming for you and Lily.”
My blood turned to ice.
I looked out the front window.
The street was dark.
Quiet.
“Thank you,” I said.
I hung up.
I ran to Lily’s room.
She was fast asleep, curled up with her rabbit.
I locked her window.
I locked her door.
I ran through the whole house, locking every window, every door.
I pushed the heavy bookshelf in front of the front door.
I grabbed the gun from the safe.
I called Ben.
He picked up on the first ring.
“Clara? I just heard. I’m on my way. I called the state police. They’re sending a protection detail. They’ll be there in 10 minutes. Lock everything. Don’t open the door for anyone who doesn’t call first and give the code—pineapple. Got it? Pineapple.”
“Got it,” I said.
I hung up.
I sat down on the top step of the staircase, gun in my lap, facing the front door.
I waited.
Five minutes passed.
Ten.
Fifteen.
No cops.
No Ben.
Then I heard it.
A soft tap on the back kitchen window.
I stood up, gun raised.
I walked slowly toward the kitchen.
The moon was bright through the window.
I saw her.
Standing in the backyard, soaking wet from the rain, wearing an orange prison jumpsuit, her white hair wild around her face, a crazy smile on her lips.
She held up a gas can in one hand.
And a lighter in the other.
She mouthed two words at me through the glass.
“Goodbye, Clara.”
She poured the gasoline all over the back porch.
All over the wooden deck.
All over the dry leaves piled up against the house.
She flicked the lighter.
A small orange flame danced at the end.
She dropped it.
Whoosh.
The whole back of the house went up in flames in two seconds flat.
The fire alarm started blaring.
Smoke poured into the kitchen.
I screamed.
I ran up the stairs to Lily’s room.
I kicked the door open.
Lily was awake, crying, the smoke alarm hurting her ears.
I grabbed her, wrapped her in a blanket, and ran to the front door.
I tried to pull the bookshelf out of the way.
It was too heavy.
The smoke was getting thicker.
I could barely breathe.
I ran to Lily’s bedroom window.
I threw it open.
We were on the second floor.
A 15-foot drop to the grass below.
I looked at Lily.
“Baby, I need you to be very brave, okay? I’m gonna jump first, and then I’m gonna catch you. I promise I won’t drop you. Do you trust me?”
Lily nodded, tears streaming down her face.
“I trust you, Mommy.”
I climbed onto the window ledge.
I jumped.
I hit the grass hard, rolling to absorb the impact.
My ankle screamed in pain.
I ignored it.
I stood up, arms outstretched.
“Jump, Lily! I got you!”
Lily climbed onto the ledge.
She hesitated for a split second.
Then she jumped.
I caught her.
We both fell back into the grass.
I held her tight, rolling away from the house just as the second-floor bedroom window exploded in a shower of glass.
I looked up.
Margaret was standing on the roof of the porch, watching the house burn, laughing like a maniac.
Sirens blared in the distance.
Getting closer.
Blue and red lights flashed down the street.
Margaret saw them.
She jumped off the roof, hit the ground running, and disappeared into the trees behind the house.
The cops pulled up a second later.
Ben jumped out of his car, running toward us.
“Clara! Lily! Are you okay?”
I nodded, coughing, holding Lily tight.
The fire department pulled up right behind them.
They started hosing down the house.
But it was too late.
The whole place was fully engulfed.
Our little yellow house.
All our things.
All the pictures of Richard.
Lily’s stuffed animals.
All gone.
But none of it mattered.
I looked down at Lily.
She was shivering, scared, but alive.
In my arms.
Safe.
That was all that mattered.
Ben knelt in front of us, wrapping a blanket around our shoulders.
“She got away,” I said, my voice raw. “She’s gone, Ben. She’s gonna keep coming. She’s never gonna stop.”
Ben looked at me, his face serious.
“Then we go somewhere she’ll never find you. Somewhere no one knows you exist. Just for a little while. Until they catch her.”
“Where?”
He smiled a little.
“Richard had a cabin. Up in the mountains, three hours outside the city. He told me about it once. Said he’d never even told Margaret. It’s off the grid. No address. No cell service. No electricity except a generator. Only people who know it exists are you, me, and Richard. She’ll never find you there.”
I looked at the burning house.
May you like
At Lily, shivering in my arms.
“Let’s go,” I said.
