[CHAPTER 3] - The Girl Who Wasn't There
The next morning, the vent was covered.
Vivian had pushed a cabinet in front of it.
The pantry shelves were back in place.
The hidden door had disappeared.
It looked as if Nora had never existed.
I kept her bracelet inside my sock.
I didn't know why.
I only knew Vivian couldn't find it.
Dad noticed something was wrong before breakfast ended.
"Ellie, why aren't you eating?"
I stared at the toast.
Yesterday, bread had been important.
Now bread made me think of Nora crying in the dark.
"I'm not hungry."
Vivian placed orange juice beside me.
"She stayed up too late."
Dad looked at her.
"Why?"
"Nightmares."
My eyes rose.
Vivian smiled.
Dad reached across the island.
"Come here."
I climbed into his arms.
The moment he hugged me, I wanted to tell him.
Every word pushed against my throat.
Nora.
The wall.
The hidden door.
Vivian.
Instead I whispered, "Daddy, if somebody tells a story, do they get sent away?"
Dad pulled back.
"What?"
I saw Vivian freeze near the sink.
"If a kid tells a story."
Dad frowned.
"Sent where?"
I looked at Vivian.
She slowly shook her head.
I whispered, "Away from their daddy."
Dad's expression changed.
"No. Why would you think that?"
Vivian laughed.
"She watched some cartoon yesterday. A little bunny got sent to boarding school."
I stared at her.
There had been no cartoon.
Dad looked between us.
Something small shifted in his face.
For the first time, he didn't immediately smile.
"Ellie."
He lowered his voice.
"Did someone tell you I'd send you away?"
Vivian set down her coffee.
"Daniel."
I nodded.
Dad became very still.
"Who?"
My lips trembled.
Then the garage door opened.
A delivery man rang the bell.
Vivian moved fast.
"I'll get it."
Dad kept looking at me.
"Who said that?"
I whispered, "Vivian."
Silence.
Dad stood.
Vivian returned carrying a package.
"What?"
Dad's voice was different.
"Did you tell Ellie I would send her away?"
Vivian stared at me.
Then she laughed.
"Oh, honey."
She placed the box down.
"That's not what happened."
"Then what happened?"
"She was upset because I caught her stealing food. I told her children who constantly lie can get in serious trouble. She twisted it."
"I didn't."
Vivian sighed.
"See?"
Dad's eyes hardened.
"She's four."
"And four-year-olds misunderstand things."
Dad picked me up.
"We're going outside."
Vivian's smile vanished.
"Daniel—"
"I want to talk to my daughter alone."
He carried me to the backyard.
I had never felt safer.
Until he asked the question.
"What food were you stealing?"
My stomach dropped.
I looked toward the kitchen windows.
Vivian stood behind the glass.
Watching.
"Ellie?"
I whispered, "Bread."
"Why?"
I couldn't answer.
Dad crouched.
"You aren't in trouble."
Tears filled my eyes.
"It wasn't for me."
"Who was it for?"
I looked at the house.
Vivian remained at the window.
I remembered her threat.
Tell Dad, and Nora disappears forever.
I shook my head.
Dad touched my cheek.
"Peanut, you're scaring me."
I started crying.
He hugged me.
That afternoon, Dad came home from work early.
Vivian hadn't expected him.
Neither had I.
He found me in the playroom.
"Want to help me with something?"
I nodded.
We walked toward the kitchen.
Vivian appeared from the hallway.
"You're home."
"I moved my meetings."
"Why?"
Dad pointed at the cabinet covering the vent.
"Was that always there?"
Vivian didn't blink.
"I rearranged things."
Dad moved the cabinet.
My heart started racing.
The metal vent was behind it.
Dad knelt.
He removed the screws with a screwdriver.
Vivian folded her arms.
"This is ridiculous."
Dad pulled the grille away.
"Ellie says she was giving food to someone."
"I told you. She's imagining things."
Dad shined his phone flashlight inside.
Nothing.
The darkness stretched only a few feet.
At the end was solid brick.
No child.
No passage.
Dad looked at me.
My stomach twisted.
"She was there."
Vivian exhaled dramatically.
"Daniel."
"She was."
Dad touched my shoulder.
"It's okay."
"No!"
I dropped to my knees.
"Nora!"
I screamed into the vent.
"Nora!"
Nothing answered.
I crawled closer.
"She was here!"
Vivian shook her head.
"This is exactly what I've been trying to tell you."
Dad stood.
"Enough."
"You're encouraging her."
"Enough, Vivian."
It was the first time I heard him speak sharply to her.
Her face changed.
Only for a second.
But I saw it.
Rage.
That night, Dad searched the pantry.
He pushed shelves.
Tapped walls.
Checked behind cabinets.
Vivian followed him.
"You really believe there's a child inside our house?"
"I believe Ellie is terrified."
"Children invent things."
"She knew a name."
Vivian stopped.
Dad turned.
"What name?"
My breath caught.
I hadn't realized he remembered.
"Nora."
Vivian recovered quickly.
"Maybe a child from preschool."
"I called the preschool."
She stared at him.
"There is no Nora."
Vivian smiled too late.
Dad noticed.
So did I.
He walked upstairs without another word.
Twenty minutes later, he returned carrying a small black device.
A camera.
He placed it high on a bookshelf facing the kitchen.
Vivian was outside taking a phone call.
Dad crouched beside me.
"Don't tell Vivian."
I nodded.
"About the camera?"
"About anything we do."
He kissed my forehead.
"I'm going to figure this out."
I wanted to feel relieved.
Instead, I remembered Nora being dragged toward the garage.
I pulled the bracelet from my sock.
"Daddy?"
Dad stared at it.
He read the writing.
His face drained of color.
"Where did you get this?"
"Nora."
Dad looked toward the window.
Vivian was coming back inside.
May you like
He closed his fist around the bracelet.
And for the first time, my father looked afraid of his own wife.
