Chapter 4: The Child Who Came Before Maya
I read the message again.
Ask your wife what happened to the little girl who carried it before Maya.
My first instinct was to call the police.
My second was to run straight to Claire and demand an explanation.
But before I could do either, Elaine emerged from the consultation room.
“Mr. Bennett?””
I slipped my phone into my pocket.
“Is Maya okay?””
“She is frightened, but she has been speaking with us.””
“Did she tell you anything?””
Elaine nodded.
“Some details about the man who visited your home. We are documenting her statements carefully.””
I hesitated.
“There's something I need to tell you.””
I showed her the messages.
Her expression changed as she read them.
“Has this person threatened you before?””
“No.””
“Do you recognize the number?””
“No.””
Elaine immediately contacted hospital security and the appropriate safeguarding personnel.
I was instructed not to respond to the sender or arrange any meeting.
Then she asked me a question.
“Does your wife have access to your daughter's school records?””
“Of course. She's her mother.””
“Has Maya ever mentioned another child connected to her mother?””
I thought about the message.
“No. Why?””
Elaine looked down at her notes.
“During our conversation, Maya mentioned a girl named Lily.””
My heart skipped.
“Who is Lily?””
“She said her mother sometimes talks about her when she thinks Maya is asleep.””
I stared at her.
“What does she say?””
Elaine chose her words carefully.
“Maya remembers hearing your wife say that Lily had been a good girl and that nobody should have found out what happened.””
My hands went cold.
I had never heard that name in our twelve years of marriage.
“Is Lily a relative?””
“I don't know.””
I returned to Maya's room.
She was sitting upright now, her small stuffed rabbit resting beside her.
When she saw me, she reached out.
“Daddy.””
I sat beside her.
“Hey, sweetheart.””
“Did you find out what's in the bag?””
“Not yet.””
She looked toward the door.
“Can I tell you something?””
“Anything.””
Maya lowered her voice.
“Mommy has another phone.””
I frowned.
“Another phone?””
“Yes. A little black one.””
“Where does she keep it?””
“In the drawer under her jewelry box.””
I thought about the countless times Claire had told me she hated carrying two phones.
“Have you seen it?””
Maya nodded.
“She uses it when she talks to Victor.””
“Did you hear what they said?””
“Sometimes.””
“What did you hear?””
Maya picked at the blanket.
“She said the name Lily.””
I leaned closer.
“What about Lily?””
“She said Lily's mother had signed the papers.””
“Whose mother?””
Maya shook her head.
“I don't know.””
Then she looked at me.
“But Daddy, I think Lily was a little girl.””
I felt the room tilt.
“Why do you think that?””
“Because Mommy said she was ten.””
The same age as Maya.
I swallowed.
“Did Mommy say where Lily was?””
Maya nodded slowly.
“She said Lily was gone.””
“Gone where?””
“I don't know.””
A nurse entered to prepare Maya for imaging.
I kissed her forehead.
“I'm going to be right here.””
She grabbed my hand.
“Daddy?””
“Yes?””
“Please don't let Mommy tell me I'm bad again.””
I froze.
“Has she been telling you that?””
Maya looked away.
“Sometimes.””
My voice nearly broke.
“You are not bad, sweetheart.””
She nodded, but her eyes remained fixed on the blanket.
I stepped outside.
A few minutes later, hospital security informed me that someone had been asking at the reception desk for information about Maya's room.
The description matched the man in the photograph.
Victor.
Security had refused to provide any information and had contacted the authorities.
I looked at the photograph again.
There was something about the building in the background that bothered me.
I enlarged it on my phone.
A sign above the entrance read:
*HARBOR HOUSE CHILDREN'S FOUNDATION.*
I searched my memory.
I had heard that name before.
Claire had once mentioned volunteering with a children's charity.
She'd told me she spent two afternoons a month helping organize donations.
I'd never questioned it.
Now I wondered whether that organization had anything to do with the USB.
I called Michael.
“Have you heard of Harbor House?””
He paused.
“Yes.””
“How?””
“Claire mentioned it last year. She said she was helping with a fundraising project.””
“Do you know anything about it?””
“No. Why?””
I sent him the photograph.
A few seconds passed.
Then he called me back.
“Daniel, that's not just a children's charity.””
“What do you mean?””
“It's connected to a trust.””
“What trust?””
“The Bennett Family Children's Trust.””
I frowned.
“That sounds like Dad's old foundation.””
“It is.””
My father had died six years earlier.
Before his death, he'd established a charitable trust to support vulnerable children and families.
I remembered attending the launch ceremony.
I also remembered that Claire had helped with the paperwork because she worked in accounting.
Michael's voice lowered.
“Daniel, do you remember Lily?””
I stared at the phone.
“No. Who is she?””
“Our father's beneficiary.””
I felt the air leave my lungs.
“What?””
“Dad established a separate fund for a little girl named Lily. He never told us much about her. He said she was the daughter of a woman he'd helped years ago.””
I struggled to process the information.
“Why would Claire know about her?””
“Because Claire handled the accounts after Dad died.””
I looked at the backpack.
“Michael, I think Lily might be connected to Victor.””
“Then you need to find out what happened.””
Before I could respond, the door to Maya's room opened.
Dr. Harris stepped out.
“Mr. Bennett, the imaging results are back.””
I stood immediately.
“How is she?””
“She has acute appendicitis. We need to operate.””
My heart pounded.
“Is it dangerous?””
“We've caught it before a confirmed rupture, but we don't want to delay treatment.””
I nodded.
“Please do whatever is necessary.””
Dr. Harris explained the procedure and the consent forms.
I signed them with shaking hands.
As the staff prepared Maya for surgery, she reached for my fingers.
“Daddy?””
“I'm here.””
“Will you stay?””
“Every second.””
She looked at the pink backpack.
“Promise me something.””
“Anything.””
“Don't let Mommy take the little girl's picture.””
I looked down.
“What picture?””
Maya pointed toward the front pocket.
I opened it.
Behind her folded school timetable was another photograph.
This one showed a little girl with dark hair, wearing a yellow dress.
She was standing beside my father.
On the back were the words:
*LILY MORGAN — AGE 10.*
I stared at the picture.
Then I noticed something else.
The photograph had been taken six years earlier.
May you like
The little girl would be sixteen now.
And my father had been holding her hand as if she were his own daughter.
