Chapter 5 - The Girl Behind the Bedroom Door
The drive back to Milwaukee took almost two hours longer than usual because freezing rain moved across southern Wisconsin.
Ethan slept most of the way.
I kept looking at him in the passenger seat.
My winter coat was still wrapped around him.
His head leaned against the window.
Fourteen years old.
Too old to be treated like a small child.
Too young to have learned how carefully terror had to be hidden.
When we reached my house, I made soup.
Ethan ate three bowls.
Then he apologized.
“For what?”
“Eating so much.”
I had to turn toward the stove before answering.
“You can eat anything in this house whenever you're hungry.”
He looked confused.
“What if it's for dinner?”
“Then we'll make something else for dinner.”
“What if it's expensive?”
“Then don't eat the furniture.”
He actually smiled.
Barely.
But it was there.
I made up the guest room.
He hesitated at the door.
“Can it stay unlocked?”
My chest tightened.
“It will never be locked.”
That night, I barely slept.
Around 11:40, my phone rang from an unknown number.
I almost ignored it.
Then I answered.
Nobody spoke.
“Hello?”
Breathing.
Then a whisper.
“Grandpa?”
I sat up.
“Chloe?”
“Don't say my name loud.”
I turned on the lamp.
“Where are you?”
“In my room.”
“Are you safe?”
A pause.
“I think so.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“What happened?”
“Mommy keeps asking what I told the hospital lady.”
“What did you tell her?”
“That Ethan doesn't scare me.”
“Anything else?”
“No.”
Another pause.
Then:
“But I lied.”
My heart started pounding.
“What do you mean?”
“I know things.”
I got out of bed.
“What things?”
“I know why Ethan gets in trouble.”
“Tell me.”
“Mom makes lists.”
I remembered the rules Ethan mentioned.
“What kind of lists?”
“Bad things.”
“About Ethan?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“In the blue book.”
A notebook.
“Where is it?”
“Mom keeps it in the kitchen drawer where we're not allowed to look.”
I started taking notes.
“What does she write?”
“When Ethan eats.”
“When Ethan talks back.”
“When he forgets homework.”
“When he looks at her wrong.”
I closed my eyes.
“Anything else?”
Chloe's voice became even quieter.
“She writes how long he has to go downstairs.”
The basement.
“Chloe, listen to me. Do not try to get that book. Do you understand?”
“But I already did.”
I stopped breathing.
“What?”
“I took pictures.”
My hand froze over the notepad.
“When?”
“Before Thanksgiving.”
“Why?”
“Because Ethan said nobody would believe him.”
I sat back down.
“Where are the pictures?”
“My tablet.”
“Do your parents know?”
“No.”
“Do not show them.”
“I didn't.”
“Can you send them to me?”
Silence.
“Chloe?”
“I don't know how.”
“That's okay.”
She sniffled.
“I recorded other things too.”
I could hear my heartbeat.
“What things?”
“Mom yelling.”
“At Ethan?”
“Yes.”
“And Dad?”
A pause.
“Sometimes.”
“What did he say?”
“I don't remember.”
That was fine.
We had more than enough already.
Then Chloe whispered something that made me stand again.
“I recorded them talking about money.”
“What money?”
“Ethan's.”
My skin went cold.
“What did they say?”
“I don't know all the words.”
“Tell me what you remember.”
“Mom said if Ethan goes away, nobody can stop Dad from paying bills.”
“What bills?”
“I don't know.”
“And what did your father say?”
Chloe hesitated.
Then:
“He said Grandpa would find out.”
I stopped.
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“What did Melissa say?”
“She said you were old and didn't know anything.”
Under different circumstances, I might have laughed.
Instead I asked, “Do you still have the recording?”
“Yes.”
“Where's the tablet?”
“In my backpack.”
“Is your backpack in your room?”
“No.”
I didn't like that.
“Where is it?”
“Downstairs.”
“Do not go get it.”
“But—”
“Chloe, listen carefully. I want you safe more than I want that tablet. Do not sneak around your house. Do not confront your parents. Tomorrow, I will tell the investigator you called.”
She became frightened.
“No!”
“Why?”
“Mom said if I talk to you again, she'll send Ethan somewhere forever.”
“She cannot do that now.”
“She said she can.”
“She can't.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Ethan is with me.”
Silence.
Then a tiny breath of relief.
“He is?”
“Yes.”
“Can I talk to him?”
I looked toward the hallway.
“Right now he's asleep.”
“Oh.”
“But I'll tell him you called.”
“Tell him…”
She stopped.
“What?”
“Tell him I didn't eat his pie.”
I smiled despite everything.
“What pie?”
“His pumpkin pie. Mom said he didn't deserve it, but I hid it in the freezer.”
My eyes burned.
“I'll tell him.”
A floorboard creaked on Chloe's end.
She gasped.
“Someone's coming.”
“Put the phone down.”
“I have to go.”
The line disconnected.
I stood beside my bed holding the phone.
Thirty seconds later, it rang again.
Same number.
I answered immediately.
Nobody spoke.
Then I heard Melissa.
Not clearly.
Farther away.
“Who were you talking to?”
Chloe said something I couldn't hear.
Melissa's voice hardened.
“Give me the phone.”
There was movement.
Then the call ended.
I contacted Rachel before midnight.
She listened without interruption.
When I finished, she said, “Do not contact Chloe again tonight.”
“I wasn't planning to.”
“We'll handle it first thing.”
“What about the tablet?”
“If it contains evidence, we'll seek access legally.”
“Can you get Chloe out?”
“We need grounds.”
“You have grounds.”
“For Ethan, yes. We need to assess Chloe separately.”
I hated that answer.
But I understood it.
At 1:12 a.m., another message arrived.
Not a call.
A text.
Unknown number.
Only seven words.
SHE FOUND OUT ABOUT THE TABLET GRANDPA
Then another.
I HID IT WHERE MOM CANT FIND
And a third.
ETHAN KNOWS WHERE
I stared at the screen.
Behind me, Ethan's voice came from the hallway.
“What happened?”
I turned.
He had read my face.
I showed him the messages.
His eyes widened.
“Where would she hide it?”
He didn't answer.
“Ethan?”
He looked terrified.
“I know where.”
“Where?”
“In Mom's old sewing room.”
“That doesn't sound hidden.”
“It isn't in the room.”
May you like
He swallowed.
“It's inside the wall.”
