Chapter 2 - Daddy Didn't Laugh
Daddy didn't laugh.
That mattered.
Most adults laughed when four-year-olds said impossible things.
A girl inside a wall should have sounded impossible.
Instead, Daddy looked at me.
"What did you say?"
Vivian stepped closer.
"Daniel, she's been making up stories all afternoon."
I tightened my arms around his neck.
"Her name is Nora."
Daddy's body became rigid.
Vivian's face changed.
Only for a second.
But I saw it.
Daddy did too.
"Nora?"
His voice was different now.
Vivian forced a laugh.
"She probably heard the name on television."
Daddy put me down.
"Ellie, show me."
Vivian moved in front of us.
"This is ridiculous."
Daddy looked at her.
"Then it will take thirty seconds."
Nobody spoke.
I walked toward the cabinets.
My bare feet felt cold against the tile.
I pointed.
"There."
The original grille was gone.
The metal plate Vivian had installed covered the opening.
Daddy frowned.
"What is that?"
Vivian crossed her arms.
"An old vent."
"Why is it covered?"
"I had it sealed weeks ago. There were mice."
That was a lie.
I knew it.
Daddy crouched.
He ran his fingers over the screws.
Then he looked at Vivian.
"These screws are new."
She didn't answer immediately.
"I asked maintenance to do it."
"When?"
"I don't remember."
Daddy stood.
"I'll call Frank."
Vivian's voice sharpened.
"Daniel."
"What?"
"Your daughter is tired. She's been stealing food and making stories. You're encouraging it."
Daddy turned toward me.
I expected disappointment.
Instead he asked,
"Did you hear someone behind there?"
I nodded.
"How many times?"
"Lots."
"Did you see anyone?"
"A hand."
Vivian sighed dramatically.
"Daniel."
Daddy ignored her.
"What did Nora say?"
"She was hungry."
His expression changed.
"What else?"
"She was scared."
Vivian grabbed his arm.
"Enough."
Daddy looked at her hand.
Then slowly looked at her face.
"Why are you so nervous?"
"I'm not nervous."
"You are."
She released him.
"I'm frustrated because you're interrogating a four-year-old over an imaginary friend."
Daddy turned back toward the wall.
He opened a drawer.
"What are you doing?"
"Getting a screwdriver."
Vivian moved faster than I had ever seen.
"No."
Daddy stopped.
The kitchen became completely silent.
"Why not?"
Vivian stared at him.
Then smiled.
"Because I don't want you tearing apart the kitchen because Ellie had a nightmare."
Daddy's voice became quieter.
"Move."
She didn't.
"Daddy?"
He looked at me.
"Go sit by the table, peanut."
I obeyed.
Vivian stepped aside.
Daddy unscrewed the metal plate.
My heart pounded.
When the final screw came loose, he pulled it away.
Behind it was darkness.
"Nora?"
Nothing.
I ran toward him.
"Nora!"
Silence.
Daddy used his phone flashlight.
The opening behind the vent wasn't large enough for a person.
It led into a narrow metal duct.
Empty.
Vivian laughed.
"There. Happy?"
My stomach dropped.
"She was there."
Daddy touched my shoulder.
"I believe you heard something."
"No."
I pointed.
"Her hand came here."
Vivian shook her head.
"Mice scratch. Pipes make sounds. Children imagine things."
"Nora talked!"
Daddy looked troubled.
He shined the light deeper.
Then something caught his attention.
"What is that?"
He reached inside.
His fingers came back holding something.
A piece of bread.
My bread.
I shouted,
"See!"
Vivian's smile disappeared.
Daddy examined it.
"How did this get inside?"
Vivian answered quickly.
"Ellie pushed it through."
"I did."
Daddy looked at me.
"Nora took it."
Vivian threw her hands up.
"So Ellie admits she's been putting food in the ventilation system."
Daddy didn't answer.
He looked inside again.
Then he noticed something else.
Scratches.
Tiny scratches along the inside edge.
Not made by mice.
The paint had been rubbed away where small fingers had repeatedly touched the metal.
Daddy stood.
"Where does this duct go?"
Vivian's face went pale.
"I don't know."
"You've lived here almost two years."
"So have you."
Daddy took out his phone.
He called someone.
Vivian's anger became visible.
"Who are you calling?"
"Frank."
The maintenance man answered.
Daddy put the phone on speaker.
"Frank, did you cover a kitchen vent recently?"
"No, sir."
Vivian's eyes widened.
Daddy stared at her.
"Did Mrs. Carter ask you to?"
"No."
Silence.
Frank continued.
"Actually, I told Mrs. Carter last month that vent shouldn't be blocked. It's part of the old servant ventilation."
Daddy's eyes stayed on Vivian.
"Where does it lead?"
"There's a service corridor behind the kitchen wall."
My skin prickled.
Daddy asked,
"How do you access it?"
Frank hesitated.
"Through the old pantry door, I think."
Vivian whispered,
"Daniel."
Daddy hung up.
Then walked toward the pantry.
Vivian grabbed his arm again.
"Don't."
Daddy stopped.
"Give me one reason."
She looked toward me.
"Not in front of Ellie."
That frightened Daddy.
I could see it.
He knelt.
"Peanut, go upstairs."
"No."
"Ellie."
"Nora needs me."
His face broke a little.
He pulled me close.
"I promise I'm going to find out what's happening."
I whispered,
"Vivian said police could take you."
Daddy went still.
"What?"
Vivian closed her eyes.
I continued.
"She said because Nora's in your house."
Daddy slowly stood.
"Vivian."
She shook her head.
"She misunderstood."
"What exactly did you tell my daughter?"
"I was trying to stop her from inventing things."
"You told her I'd be taken away?"
"Daniel—"
"You scared a four-year-old into silence."
Vivian's face hardened.
For the first time, she stopped pretending to be sweet.
"You have no idea what's happening."
"Then tell me."
"I can't."
"Why?"
"Because you're emotional."
Daddy laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
"There's supposedly a child hidden behind my kitchen wall, and I'm the emotional one?"
Vivian lowered her voice.
"Send Ellie upstairs."
Daddy looked at me.
Then toward the pantry.
He made a decision.
He picked me up.
"No."
Vivian blinked.
"No?"
"She's staying with me."
He carried me toward the pantry.
Inside were shelves filled with cans and cereal boxes.
Daddy moved them aside.
Behind one shelf was a narrow wooden panel.
I had never noticed it.
Vivian stood in the doorway.
"Daniel, stop."
Daddy pulled the shelf.
It moved.
Behind it was a narrow door.
Locked.
Daddy stared.
"This wasn't on the house tour."
Vivian said nothing.
He tried the handle.
"Where's the key?"
"I don't know."
"You're lying."
Her mouth tightened.
Daddy took out his phone.
"I'm calling the police."
Vivian rushed forward.
"No!"
Her scream made me cry.
Daddy pushed me behind him.
Vivian stopped.
Then a sound came from the other side of the locked door.
Three small knocks.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
I screamed,
"Nora!"
Daddy's face drained of color.
Behind the door, a weak voice whispered,
"Ellie?"
Daddy looked at Vivian.
Whatever doubt remained disappeared.
"Call 911," he said.
Vivian didn't move.
Daddy lifted his phone.
May you like
And for the first time since I'd known her, Vivian stopped trying to explain.
She ran.
