by Geneva Lee
“She can’t be hiding.” I shake my head. “It doesn’t make sense. It’s the middle of the night.”
“Don’t think rationally. Think like a four year-old. Where would you have hidden?”
I hate dredging up memories of my childhood—too often, I discover landmines after I’ve stepped on one. In the end, the answer is easy. “I usually left the house.”
Sterling looks like he wants to ask why, but stops himself.
“It was scary inside the house. Daddy was on a rampage, drunk,” I add, the chill of unpleasant memories slithering up my spine. “I always felt safer outside. But if they checked the cameras, they should have seen her.”
Sterling’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t speak. “Do you remember your birthday party? All those years ago?”
“It was pretty unforgettable,” I say flatly. Even thoughts of how miserable that night turned out can’t distract me from my purpose here tonight, though. “What does that have to do with Ellie?”
“You knew where all the cameras were,” he says. “You knew how to avoid them. A well-honed survival instinct.”
“Ellie wouldn’t know that. She’s only—” I protest.
“I agree, but everyone else in this house knows where the cameras are, right?”
“What are you saying?” I ask, unable to process what he’s alluding to. I can see it, but it’s just far enough away that the details are too blurry to make out.
“Keep an eye on all of them. All of them,” he says.
We wind our way back downstairs quickly to find Ginny and Malcolm talking in hushed voices.
“Where was the security guard?” Sterling asks, and they startle apart.
“What are you talking about?” Malcolm asks, storming to the base of the stairs.
“There’s no one at the gate. It’s wide open.”
Malcolm’s eyes pop at this information.
Sterling’s head shifts ever so slightly, confusion clouding his eyes before shifting back to business. “We’re going to search the grounds,” he says. “I think you should help.”
“We’re waiting for the police,” Ginny says. “They’ll look.”
I take a step toward her as though getting closer will enable me to understand why she’s acting like this. “You’ll look. Now.”
“Yes,” Malcolm agrees, to my surprise. “If the gate was open…Well, we should do as much as we can to determine if she’s on the grounds. It could take the police hours to search. We should start.”
“Someone has to wait for the police,” Ginny says.
“If you want to sit around while she’s out there alone, go right ahead.” I don’t bother to wait for her to stammer out another selfish response. But it works. Ginny follows us to the door.
“Felix, can you update the officers?” Sterling asks before we step outside. He nods grimly.
“But perhaps I should go with you,” he suggests.
“Someone does need to be here. In case she comes back,” Sterling says. Ginny glares at him, her mouth twisting like she wants to spit venom. He ignores her. “We should split up. Malcolm and I will work our way to the gates. You two start toward the back.”
“Who put you in charge—” Ginny starts.
“For fuck’s sake, Virginia, just listen to him,” Malcolm cuts her off before I can. She falls silent instantly.
I don’t wait for more instructions. Pulling my phone out, I turn on its flashlight and start around the conservatory wing.
“This is all ridiculous. We aren’t going to find her in the dark,” Ginny says. “Someone took her. That’s why he’s distracting us, so they can get away.”
I whirl on her. “Neither of us would do anything to harm our daughter. She is everything to us!”
“Everything? He’s known about her for what? Five minutes?” she scoffs. “I can’t believe Malcolm is listening to either of you—”
My palm cracks across her face so hard that her head flies to the side. I’ve been holding in that slap for years. Her own hand flies to her face protectively as she glares at me, rubbing at the imprint of my palm on her cheek.
“You vicious bitch,” she shrieks. “I don’t—”
I don’t wait for her to finish the thought. “I’m going this way. We need to split up, remember?”
I stalk off towards the pool house, redirecting all my energy to finding Ellie. As I get closer to the pool, my breathing becomes shallow before it catches altogether. A dark shadow floats on its surface, lit from below by the underwater lights. I force myself to move closer, as my feet fight me the entire way. I’m a few steps from the edge when I realize someone’s left a pool lounger floating in the water. I exhale with relief. Shining my flashlight around the area I catch a glimpse of movement.
It’s Ginny, heading toward the stables. It’s a strange choice, given that we got rid of the horses years ago when I stopped riding, but I guess if Ellie is hiding, it’s a good spot. At least Ginny is finally doing something productive. Sterling’s words bounce around my head, and I find myself following her, flashlight off, keeping enough of a distance that she doesn’t spot me. I’m certain he’s doing the same with Malcolm. She pauses at the stable door, glancing around her, and I duck behind a tree trunk. Once she’s inside, I creep toward the door, peeking through it to find her unbolting the door to a stall. She steps through.
“Ellie!” she calls and I move out of sight again as her voice rises with more panic. “Ellie!”
She tears out of the stable so quickly that she doesn’t see me lurking in the shadows. Ginny rushes toward the house, and I duck into the stables, going to the stall she opened. There’s a blanket and pillow, along with a granola bar wrapper and a juice box. Lying next to it is Buddy Bear and an overnight bag.
I stare for a long time at the scene, replaying how Ginny came here instantly—to this stall, to unlock this door. It’s not a coincidence. I just don’t understand it, and I don’t have time to figure it out. It’s clear Ginny expected to find Ellie here. Another wave of nausea hits me at the thought, and I battle memories of the night at the cheap motel. Ginny’s never had an issue endangering Ellie to get what she wants.
How could I have left my daughter with her, even for a moment?
How did I let them drive me from this house?
As long as I was here, I could keep her safe, even if only in the most basic way possible. Even if it only meant making certain she had clothes and food and warmth and love. Guilt threatens to consume me. Leaving Ellie with Ginny at the motel was a naive mistake. Leaving her with Ginny every time after was a leap of faith. I’d believed that after the courts granted her guardianship, she’d won—at least, in her mind. But she’d known who Sterling was when he showed up at Windfall. She’d seen all of this coming. None of that explains this move.
I pick up Buddy Bear and look around, clutching him to my heart. “Where are you, baby?”
Turning toward the door, I nearly trip on the bag in the dark. I turn my flashlight on it, wondering how long Ginny planned to hide her away in here. I grab it and unzip it, expecting to find more granola bars and snacks. Instead, it’s full of clothes. Not the pastel, flowery dresses Ginny sticks poor Ellie in day in and day out. Adult clothes. I pull out a shirt and stare at it. Then a pair of pants. It’s my clothes.
My clothes.
Ellie, hidden away in the stables that held my horses with a bag of my clothes waiting with her.
“Ellie!” I scream, dropping the bad and jogging through the stable. “Ellie, are you in here! It’s…me. Come out.”
Come out. Come out. Come out. I chant it over and over in my head like I’m casting a spell. She’s not here. It’s clear from Ginny’s reaction that she was supposed to be. I try not to think of the acres of land that stretch in all directions. Of the number of ponds and lakes dotting the property. Of what kind of animals might prowl my father’s kingdom. I try to think of her.
Where would you hide? Sterling asked me.
I stop and clo
se my eyes. Where would I feel safe? Where would I go? And suddenly, I’m pressed safely in a dark corner, cloaked in soft cashmere as the smell of my mother’s perfume blossoms around me. Daddy never went there when he was angry. It was her place. It was safe. It was always safe.
I run towards the house, stumbling in the dark but never falling. Throwing open the door to the kitchen, I hear yelling upstairs. Ginny’s voice cuts through the air. She’s yelling at someone. Felix? I don’t stop long enough to know for sure. Instead, I seize my chance to get upstairs, past her, past her devious plan. Taking the servant’s stairs, I wind my way up to the second floor. My mother’s room is now Ginny’s. She pretends to sleep in Malcolm’s room, but she took over the space as soon as my father died, boxing up my mother’s scarves and dresses, taking down her curated collection of art in the corridor. But despite her changes, my mother’s presence lingers in the space. Ginny’s make-up sits on her vanity. The bedding has changed. All of these small changes might not add up too much, but they feel wrong, like the room itself is slowly rejecting each one like a heart transplant that doesn’t take.
My mother’s clothes are gone from the closet, replaced by Ginny’s, and the comforting sensation I once felt stepping foot inside has vanished. Even when the clothes and shoes shoved inside, it feels sterile and empty. I force apart the hangers, hoping to find Ellie hidden amongst the clothes, drawn to the safety I once found here. But she’s not here. I slump against the wall.
Through the years, it’s been harder and harder to hide how much my daughter takes after me and her father. Fragile like a bomb, passionate, strong-willed. They’ve tried to stamp it out of her, chipping away at her like a piece of granite, determined to make her into their vision of the perfect child to fit their perfect life. She’s resisted it at every turn, becoming something more beautiful, more fitting of the raw material she was born with—something that looked dangerously like me.
Me.
She’s like me.
I’m in the corridor, passing the main stairs, ignoring Ginny’s voice calling after me as I rush by to the opposite wing of the house. My wing. My room. My daughter.
There’s nothing left inside my quarters now, even the few boxes I’d left behind that day have been moved. The room sits hollowed from the inside with no sign of life.
“Please,” I murmur, running to the closet. Malcolm emptied it already. There’s not a single bit of me in the large space my own mother so carefully planned in anticipation of her little girl. But as soon as I flip on the light, a small bundle stirs on the floor. Sitting up, Ellie rubs her eyes, blinking from the sudden brightness.
“Did I win?” she asks sleepily.
“Ellie, oh my God.” I lift her into my arms, pressing her tiny body closely to mine, burying my face in her hair and breathing in her soft, perfect scent. She still smells like my baby, even after all these years. “What are you doing in here?”
“Mommy told me we should play hide-n-seek with you,” she says, her voice smothered slightly by how tightly I’m holding her. I loosen my grip only a little, so I can see her face.
“You were playing a game?” I ask.
“Yes, but it wasn’t any fun. It was dark,” she says, her lower lip beginning to tremble, “and she told me you would come and take me for a sleepover, and I tried to wait...does this mean I don’t get to stay with you?”
“You aren’t in trouble,” I kiss each of her cheeks. “I’m sorry it took me so long to find you.”
“I didn’t like where mommy told me to hide,” she says in the hushed tone of a child confessing to a crime, “so, I came here. I always feel safe here.”
“You’re safe,” I whisper to her, “but we need to go tell everyone that, okay?”
I take my time walking out of the room. When I reach the corridor I see the faint flashing of blue and red lights, and it feels as if a hook pierces me through the chest, trying to drag me back in time. It’s different this time. I have to believe that. It’s the only reason I can keep putting one foot in front of the other. I block out the shouts of people below and focus on Ellie and how her thin arms twine around my neck.
“Oh thank God!” Felix’s voice is the first to break through the protective bubble I’ve cast around us.
The next is less comforting. “Give her to me!”
Ginny blocks me on the stairs, snatching at her, but Ellie cries out, refusing to let me go. There’s a cluster of police officers in the foyer along with Sterling and my brother. Everyone is frozen for a moment, each processing the scene before them. Then, all hell breaks loose. Ginny uses this to her advantage, reaching for Ellie again.
“Don’t touch her,” I say in a lethal whisper.
“We found your bag,” Ginny says, holding up the black canvas duffel from before along with Ellie’s bear. “You were going to kidnap her!”
I’d been so focused on finding her that I’d forgotten about the planted evidence.
“What is she talking about, Adair?” Malcolm demands, moving toward the base of the stairs.
I force my way past Ginny, edging away from Malcolm at the stairs to move in the direction of where Sterling stands with the police.
“You need to start explaining what happened now,” Malcolm continues. “I never thought you would stoop as low as taking her in the night.”
Sterling tenses next to me, moving to stand between me and my brother but I step forward, choosing my words carefully. Thanks to Ginny’s game, Ellie is scared enough. I don’t need to add to her confusion. “Do you really believe that?” I ask him quietly. “Have I ever done anything to put her in jeopardy?”
“The courts thought so,” he says, but he sounds uncomfortable. He knows the truth. He’s watched. Maybe Malcolm once believed all the lies Ginny and my father spun to get custody of Ellie, but that’s the thing about spinning deceit, one wrong move and everything begins to unravel.
“They did. How couldn’t they with all that glaring evidence?” I point out sarcastically. “I suppose I didn’t learn my lesson. A bag of my clothes—what was I thinking?”
“Arrest her!” Ginny screams. “You heard her admit to it.”
I turn to the police officers, ignoring the panicked look on Sterling’s face. “Why would I come back with her?”
“Because we caught you! You couldn’t get away, so you’re going to try to make it look like it’s a misunderstanding.” Ginny stomps towards us, and Ellie shrinks in my arms as if to make herself invisible.
A female officer’s eyes narrow, noticing this. She turns her studious gaze on me. It takes me a second to realize I know her, but I place her immediately.
“History’s been known to repeat itself,” she says so quietly that only I can hear her.
“Maybe history repeats itself to give us a second chance to do the right thing,” I say.
“It doesn’t add up,” the officer says loudly. Her colleague rolls his eyes, hitching his thumbs on his belt.
“Jami,” he says, his tone ripe with condescension, “this is Malcolm MacLaine. You know who he is.”
“Oh, I know. So does the chief and everyone else.” Her lips purse as she shakes her head.
“So, we should probably let them sort this out. It seems to be a family matter,” he says carefully.
“No!” The word spills from both me and Ginny at once.
“You know who we are,” Ginny continues, pointing her nose in the air. “I’m pressing charges. She doesn’t even live here anymore. She came to my daughter’s dance studio today and threatened me. I’m not safe.” With each word, she trembles more like she’s working herself up.
“I think they’re right,” Malcolm says gently. “We don’t want this to get ugly.”
By ugly he means that he doesn’t want this leaking to the press, affecting his campaign prospects, doing more damage to our floundering family fortunes.
“It’s going to get ugly, MacLaine,” Sterling says, finally speaking. “You know that.”
“I’m
sure something can be arranged,” he says with a dismissive wave.
“No, some things in life can’t be bought and sold. You’d know that if you were a—”
“And you’re an expert?” Malcolm interrupts with a sneer that carves his face like a jack-o-lantern.
“No one cares that she was just going to make off with our child in the middle of the night?” Ginny stomps a foot. “There is nothing to work out as a family. She might as well be dead to us. Now give me back…”
“No!” Ellie shrieks, clawing at my shoulders as Ginny tries to take her away from me.
“Stop,” I beg Ginny as she tugs relentlessly. I finally release Ellie, scared she’ll be hurt.
“I don’t want to go with you!” Ellie yells. “You said if I was good and I stayed put, I could go with Auntie Dair when she found me. I want to go with her.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, darling,” Ginny says quickly. “You were waiting for Aunt Adair, right? She said she was going to come and get you.”
“You said it.” Ellie shakes her head, her jaw jutting out. “You said when Auntie Dair found me, I would go with her, and to give her the bag, but I could only go if I kept it a secret and stayed quiet as a mouse.”
“You unbelievable bitch,” Sterling says under his breath. Ellie’s eyes widen at the use of no-words, but before she can correct him, Jami holds out her arms.
“I think I should have a little talk with Ellie.” She looks at me. “If that’s okay with you?”
I nod, swallowing at the raw lump that forms when she asks me. Not Ginny. Not Malcolm. Me. Maybe it won’t change anything. But it means everything in this moment.
“I do not consent,” Ginny starts.
“Virginia,” Malcolm cuts her off through gritted teeth. “Do as the officer requests.”
“I’m going with her,” she says defiantly. The officer looks to me for permission again. I nod.
“Can I go to bed?” Ellie asks the officer. “I’m so sleepy.”