Chapter 2 – Behind the Locked Door
Peter returned to the Willow Street house the following morning.
Detective Ruiz had advised him not to come.
He came anyway.
He needed to see it.
Not because he doubted Drew.
Because part of him still could not understand how something so terrible had existed less than four miles from his own home.
The house looked exactly as he remembered it.
White siding.
A narrow porch.
Two flowerpots Reena had never bothered to fill.
There were children’s drawings taped inside the front window. Bright crayon houses. Smiling suns. Stick figures holding hands.
Peter stared at them.
Detective Ruiz met him near the sidewalk.
“You shouldn’t go inside yet,” she said.
“I need to.”
“It may be difficult.”
“They lived through it.”
His voice broke.
“I can look at it.”
She watched him for a moment, then nodded.
An officer handed Peter protective shoe coverings and gloves. Inside, the house smelled faintly of lemon cleaner.
The living room was spotless.
The couch cushions were perfectly arranged.
Aaron’s wedding photograph still stood on the mantel.
Reena smiled beside him in the picture, one hand resting on his chest.
Peter could barely look at it.
“There’s almost no sign that children lived upstairs,” Detective Ruiz said.
Peter looked around.
There were no toys.
No blankets.
No schoolbooks.
“Drew’s room?”
“Empty.”
She led him down the hallway.
The room that had once belonged to Drew had been converted into a home office. A desk sat against the wall. Filing cabinets stood where his toy chest had once been.
Lily’s room contained cardboard boxes and clothing racks.
Peter stared at the small pink stars still painted near the ceiling.
“Where did they sleep?”
Detective Ruiz did not answer.
She took him downstairs.
The basement door stood open.
The deadbolt gleamed beneath the overhead light.
Peter stepped onto the first stair.
His body resisted every movement.
At the bottom, the basement was divided into two sections. The first contained a washer, dryer, and storage shelves.
The second had been hidden behind a large bookcase.
Police had moved it aside.
Behind it was a narrow room with no proper ventilation.
Two thin mattresses lay on the floor.
A plastic cup.
A bucket.
A torn blanket.
On the wall, someone had drawn stars with a blue crayon.
Dozens of them.
Peter touched one with a gloved finger.
“Drew made those,” Detective Ruiz said. “He told one of the social workers he drew a new star every night Lily didn’t cry herself to sleep.”
Peter bowed his head.
On the floor beside the mattress sat a small wooden toy truck.
He recognized it immediately.
Aaron had made it.
He had spent an entire weekend shaping the wheels by hand for Drew’s second birthday.
Peter picked it up carefully.
One wheel was missing.
“They had this with them?” he asked.
“It may have been the only personal object they were allowed to keep.”
Peter held the truck against his chest.
Detective Ruiz led him back into the laundry area.
“We also found cameras.”
Peter turned.
“What?”
She pointed toward the ceiling.
A tiny black lens had been installed between two pipes.
“There are four cameras in the basement. Two in the hidden room. One near the stairs. One facing the door.”
Peter stared upward.
“Why would she record them?”
“We don’t know yet.”
An evidence technician approached.
“We accessed the storage system.”
Detective Ruiz’s expression sharpened.
“What’s on it?”
“Months of footage.”
Peter felt sick.
The technician continued carefully.
“It appears Reena recorded the children as a form of control. She may have reviewed the footage remotely. There are audio files too.”
“Audio?”
“Commands. Threats. Conversations.”
Peter looked toward the hidden room.
Every night Drew had comforted Lily.
Every time they had whispered about hunger.
Every moment they had hoped someone would come.
Reena had been able to hear them.
And she had left them there anyway.
Another officer emerged from upstairs carrying an evidence bag.
Inside was a tablet.
“Found this in the office,” he said. “Messages are still logged in.”
Detective Ruiz took the bag.
“Between Reena and the boyfriend?”
“Looks like it.”
Peter remembered Drew’s words.
Mr. Cole.
Detective Ruiz glanced at the screen through the clear plastic.
Her jaw tightened.
“What does it say?” Peter asked.
She hesitated.
“Mr. Calder—”
“What does it say?”
The detective exhaled.
“Reena wrote that the children were becoming harder to control. She complained Drew had started asking to call you.”
Peter said nothing.
“She also wrote that she needed to keep them hidden when visitors came because people might notice Lily’s condition.”
“Did this Cole person know?”
“Based on the replies, yes.”
Peter’s eyes burned.
“What did he say?”
Detective Ruiz looked at him.
“He told her to make sure Drew learned what happened when he disobeyed.”
Silence filled the basement.
Peter looked toward the scratches on the door.
Then toward the blue stars.
“Where is she?”
“We’re searching.”
“She could leave the state.”
“Her bank cards are being monitored. Her vehicle information has been distributed. We’ll find her.”
Peter’s voice became quiet.
“You need to find her before I do.”
Detective Ruiz stepped closer.
“I understand your anger.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I understand enough to know Drew and Lily need you free, present, and stable. Don’t let Reena take that from them too.”
The words reached him.
Barely.
But they reached him.
Peter looked down at Aaron’s broken wooden truck.
“What happens to the children now?”
“CPS will place them in emergency foster care unless a relative is approved.”
“I’m their relative.”
“You’ll need a background check, home inspection, interviews—”
“Start them.”
“Peter—”
“Today.”
Detective Ruiz studied him.
“You understand this won’t be temporary until the case is resolved. They may need years of therapy. Drew may have behavioral difficulties. Lily may have developmental delays. They may wake up screaming. They may hide food. They may not trust you.”
Peter looked at the stars on the wall.
“They crawled seven blocks to reach me.”
May you like
His voice steadied.
“I’m not sending them anywhere else.”
