Chapter 9: The Second Phone
“Someone is still inside.””
The words left my mouth before I fully understood them.
Lena stared at the message on my screen.
*Stop looking for answers, David. You won’t like what you find.*
“Don’t go in there,” she said.
I was already calling my attorney.
He answered immediately.
“David?””
“I received a threatening message from a number registered to my address.””
“Do not confront anyone.””
“I’m not planning to.””
“Call the police. Preserve the message. Don’t delete anything.””
I did exactly that.
For months, Corinne had depended on me reacting emotionally.
That was what Marcus’s profile said.
*Subject is highly protective of children and likely to respond emotionally.*
They expected anger.
So I gave them evidence instead.
When the officers arrived, I explained everything from the driveway.
The forged documents.
The hidden camera.
The locked room.
The custody filing.
The message.
One officer, Detective Alvarez, listened without interrupting.
“Is anyone supposed to be inside?””
“No.””
“Your wife?””
“She left earlier.””
“Children?””
“Safe somewhere else.””
He nodded.
“Stay here.””
The officers entered.
Ten minutes passed.
Then twenty.
Finally, Alvarez returned.
“No one’s inside.””
My stomach tightened.
“Then where did the message come from?””
“We found something you should see.””
Inside my office, an officer stood beside the bookcase.
Several books had been removed.
Behind them was a small black phone plugged into a charger.
I stared at it.
“That isn’t mine.””
Alvarez put on gloves.
“Do you recognize it?””
“No.””
He lifted it carefully.
The screen lit up.
No password.
One messaging application was open.
The last sent message was the one I had received.
Lena had been right.
The threat came from inside my house.
But whoever sent it hadn’t needed to be standing there.
The phone had been configured for remote access.
Alvarez looked at me.
“Do you know anyone who would hide a device here?””
I thought of Marcus.
Then Corinne.
“Two people.””
The officers took the phone.
But before Alvarez bagged it, I noticed a contact name on the screen.
*C*
“Wait.””
He stopped.
“What?””
“That contact.””
He looked.
“You think it’s Corinne?””
“Maybe.””
Alvarez opened the conversation.
Most of it had been deleted.
But one message remained.
Sent three weeks earlier.
*D is getting suspicious. Accelerate the plan.*
Another followed.
*What about the girl?*
Then:
*Keep using the room. We need her afraid of him before filing.*
I couldn’t breathe.
Not because they had discussed Wren.
Because the next message came from C.
*She still runs to him when he comes home.*
Marcus had replied:
*Then change what home means to her.*
I turned away.
For months, I had wondered why Wren stopped running to greet me.
Why she waited at the table.
Why she watched Corinne before speaking.
They had been conditioning her.
Not simply punishing her.
Teaching her that my leaving meant hunger.
That my car disappearing meant locked doors.
That my absence caused pain.
So eventually, when someone asked Wren whether she felt safe with me, fear would already be attached to my name.
Alvarez’s expression changed as he read.
“This matters.””
“For custody?””
“For more than custody.””
My phone rang.
My attorney.
I answered.
“I just received notice from the court,” he said.
“What happened?””
“Corinne requested emergency temporary custody.””
My stomach tightened.
“When?””
“Yesterday.””
“Before I confronted her.””
“Yes.””
Of course.
Everything had been timed.
“What happens now?””
“We respond with everything.””
“The recordings?””
“Yes.””
“The phone?””
“Yes.””
“Desmond’s statement?””
“Especially that.””
I looked at the empty playroom.
“And Wren?””
“We protect her. We don’t coach her. We let professionals handle that.””
For once, those words brought relief.
Wren did not need to prove anything.
She needed to be five.
That evening, a child advocate interviewed both children separately.
I waited outside.
Desmond came out first.
His eyes were red.
“Am I in trouble?””
I stood.
“No.””
“Even because I signed it?””
“Especially because you told the truth afterward.””
He looked down.
“Mom said she’d hate me.””
My throat tightened.
“Your job isn’t to earn love by keeping secrets.””
He nodded slowly.
Then he hugged me.
Not stepfather.
Not biological father.
Just the man he trusted enough to finally tell.
Wren came out twenty minutes later carrying her stuffed rabbit.
She climbed into my lap.
“Can I have crackers?””
The question almost destroyed me.
I kissed her hair.
“You never have to apologize for being hungry.””
She looked up.
“Even if I already ate?””
“Even then.””
A tiny smile appeared.
My phone rang.
Detective Alvarez.
“We accessed more data from the second phone.””
“What did you find?””
“A scheduled message.””
“Scheduled for when?””
“Tomorrow morning.””
My chest tightened.
“What does it say?””
He hesitated.
Then read it.
*Once David is served, take Desmond and leave. Marcus will handle Wren.*
I stood so quickly the chair scraped backward.
“What does ‘handle Wren’ mean?””
“We don’t know.””
Then Alvarez said:
“But we found Marcus.””
I closed my eyes.
“Where?””
“At the airport.””
“Was he alone?””
“No.””
My heartbeat stopped.
“Who was with him?””
May you like
Alvarez paused.
“Corinne.””
