Chapter 4 - Beneath the FloorI didn't sleep that night.
I sat beside Emma's hospital bed with her hand wrapped around my finger.
Every few hours, she woke.
Every time she woke, she asked the same question.
“Is Mommy here?”
Every time, I answered:
“No.”
At 3:18 a.m., she whispered something else.
“The floor.”
I leaned closer.
“What about the floor?”
“The floor in the cold room.”
“What is under it?”
Emma's eyes drifted toward the ceiling.
“I don't know.”
“You said something was under it.”
“Mommy said I wasn't allowed to look.”
“Why?”
“Because grown-up things were there.”
That wasn't an answer.
It was a warning.
By morning, Detective Harris had returned.
I told him everything.
He listened without interrupting.
Then he called his team.
Two hours later, they were back at the house.
I stayed at the hospital.
Emma wasn't going to see that basement again.
Not if I could help it.
Harris called around noon.
“We found a hidden compartment.”
My heart began pounding.
“Where?”
“Under the chair.”
He sent me a photograph.
The metal chair had been bolted to the floor.
When they removed it, they found a square panel.
Inside was a narrow cavity.
In that cavity were three things.
A locked box.
A stack of envelopes.
And a small digital recorder.
“What was on it?”
“We haven't finished processing the audio.”
“What's in the envelopes?”
“Your name.”
I went silent.
“Are you serious?”
“Very.”
“What kind of letters?”
“Letters you apparently wrote.”
“I didn't write them.”
Harris paused.
“That's what we thought.”
The first envelope contained a typed letter.
Dear Melissa,
I am tired of this marriage.
I am tired of the child.
Maybe it would be better if Emma stayed with you permanently.
I don't want responsibility anymore.
I stared at the words.
They sounded like me.
But they weren't.
“What the hell is this?”
“Forged letters,” Harris said.
“Why?”
“We're trying to answer that.”
I looked at the hospital bed.
Emma slept.
Someone had spent months building a fake version of me.
One where I was cruel.
One where I didn't want my own daughter.
One where Melissa looked like the patient parent who had no choice but to protect a helpless child.
Then Harris said:
“There are bank statements too.”
“What?”
“Transfers from an account you don't recognize.”
“For what?”
“Private investigator services.”
I felt my jaw tighten.
“Who hired them?”
“Your wife.”
“Why?”
“We don't know yet.”
A few minutes later, the digital recorder finished processing.
Harris called again.
“You should hear this.”
I put the phone on speaker.
Static.
Then Melissa's voice.
“You'll need to stop crying.”
Emma's voice answered.
“I don't want to.”
“If you keep crying, Daddy won't come home.”
“He always comes home.”
“Not if you make him hate you.”
Silence.
Then Emma whispered:
“Does Daddy hate me?”
Melissa replied:
“He will.”
My fists shook.
The recording continued.
Another voice appeared.
The male voice from the car.
He said:
“She still doesn't trust the story.”
Melissa answered:
“She will.”
“How?”
“Fear.”
The man laughed quietly.
Then he said something that made my skin crawl.
“By the time the judge sees her, she won't remember him as her father.”
The recording ended.
I called Harris.
“Who is the man?”
“We've got an identification.”
“Who?”
There was a pause.
“His name is Victor Lane.”
The name meant nothing.
Then Harris continued.
“He used to work for a family court psychologist.”
My blood ran cold.
“What?”
“He specializes in custody evaluations.”
I stood.
“What does he have to do with my family?”
“We're looking into it.”
I looked at Emma.
The door opened.
A nurse entered with another doctor.
Then the nurse stopped.
There was someone behind her.
A woman.
Dark coat.
Gray hair.
Holding a file.
“I was told you were Emma's father.”
I nodded.
“Who are you?”
She looked at the little girl sleeping in the bed.
Then at me.
“My name is Dr. Elaine Porter.”
I didn't recognize her.
She opened the file.
“I evaluated your family six months ago.”
My heart stopped.
“I never knew.”
She nodded.
“Because your wife told me you refused the evaluation.”
“She lied?”
“Yes.”
Elaine's expression was grave.
“And Mr. Carter?”
“Yes?”
“I need to tell you something before the police find out.”
“What?”
May you like
She closed the door behind her.
“I may be one of the reasons Melissa believed she could take your daughter.”
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