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“I met you once, a long time ago. I was just a little girl.”
“Oh.” She looked down at her lap. “Did I hurt you?”
In all the scenarios Cassie had gone through in her head, she’d never envisioned the woman would’ve volunteered the information she was looking for. She opened the voice app on her phone and hit record.
“No, you didn’t hurt me.” She didn’t want to push the woman too far too fast. “But I think you might’ve known a friend of mine.”
The woman stayed silent, but she didn’t turn away. Cassie took that as an opportunity to pull up a picture on her phone. She had several to choose from, but she figured Sebastian’s would cause the biggest reaction.
Sherry cradled the phone. She touched a finger to Sebastian’s face. “Ethan,” she muttered.
“This is Sebastian Thomas,” Cassie corrected. “Do you remember him?”
“He looks just like my son.”
“I read about your son. I’m sorry about what happened to him.”
Sherry looked up. A tear rolled down her face. “It was an accident. I didn’t mean to. I just turned my back for a minute.”
“I know.” Cassie pointed to picture. “Sebastian looked just like Ethan.”
“I couldn’t stop staring at him. I thought Ethan had come back to life.”
“Where did you first see Sebastian?”
Sherry wiped her tear away and handed the phone back to Cassie. She looked out the window, and after a moment of silence, Cassie wasn’t sure if she would get an answer. Had she come this far only to hit a dead end? She couldn’t make Sherry Miller talk to her, no matter how many questions she asked.
“In the park.” Sherry’s voice was shaky. “I didn’t have anywhere to go, so I used to walk a lot. I saw him in the park. He was there almost every day. I used to watch him.”
“Did he ever come up to you? Did you ever try talking to him?”
“Once.” Sherry kept looking out the window. Cassie could just make out her expression in the glass's reflection. She looked wistful. “He was playing with his ball and it went rolling into the grass. I walked up to him and said hi. I asked him if his name was Ethan. He said no. I asked him how old he was. Then I asked him if he wanted some ice cream.”
“What did he say?”
“He asked if Miss Paula could have some, too. I told him yes, that we would go get it and bring it back to her.”
Cassie’s heart was pounding. Had anyone ever heard this story before? Did anyone know the details except Sherry Miller and Sebastian Thomas? Even Miss Paula—most likely Sebastian’s babysitter—didn’t know what had happened to him, and she had been there.
“Did he go with you? To get the ice cream?”
Sherry nodded her head. “I brought him home with me. I had a lot of ice cream. I let him eat as much as he wanted. He kept asking to go back to Miss Paula, but I told him I had called her. I said she wanted him to stay with me for a while.”
With every question, Cassie was sure Sherry would wake up from her memories and decide to stop sharing her story. But Cassie was compelled to keep asking. She needed the truth. “How long did he stay with you?”
“After a few days, I couldn’t get him to eat. He kept crying and asking for his mommy. I tried to tell him I was his mommy, but he would cry harder.” Sherry wrung her hands. “I crushed up pills in his applesauce.”
“What kind of pills?”
“The doctors had given them to me to make me calm. I used to give him half, and he’d fall asleep. It’d give me a little peace and quiet. I never meant to hurt him.”
Cassie figured the pills must’ve been sedatives. But even half of one meant for an adult would knock a nine-year-old out for more than just a couple of hours.
“Did Sebastian ever get to see his mom again?”
Cassie knew the answer, but she wanted to hear what Sherry had to say.
“Once he found out what I’d done, he wouldn’t let me.”
