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This is something Chloe and I have done since she was a little girl. We dance around the kitchen while I cook dinner, using wooden spoons and spatulas as pretend microphones.
The telltale piano opening of “It’s All Coming Back to Me Now” by Celine Dion rings throughout the kitchen as Chloe grabs a spoon and takes her stance. Her head is turned to the side, her legs spread slightly apart as she dramatically turns to look at me, mouthing the opening lines. I laugh every time at how seriously she takes this.
She’s an old soul. I tell myself that’s a good thing, but part of me thinks it’s from the fact that she had to grow up earlier than she should have. At 10, she’s already dealt with the biggest heartbreak a girl can experience: her dad leaving her.
We finish dinner and enjoy some time on the couch, watching an episode ofThe Mandalorian, her newest obsession, before heading upstairs to get ready for bed. Chloe is typically in bed by 9 or 9:30, and I allow her an extra 30 minutes of reading before lights out. I, however, tend to stay up until at least midnight or 1 a.m. working, a new development in my life. When I worked as chief counsel for the financial firm, I enjoyed leisurely evenings of wine and bubble baths . . . something I only dream about now. I’m really starting to understand what Brett meant when he said I’d be saying goodbye to my cushy life.
“It’s for the greater good and it’s only temporary,” I remind myself as I pull my box of files from the floor onto my bed.
After an extended shower—the one luxury I still allow myself now and then—I turn on some soft music and get to work highlighting, making notes, and going over statements and testimony. I yawn, stretching my arms overhead to look at the clock. It’s just after 11, but I still have at least another hour of work in me before my eyes will be too heavy to stay open.
I shake my head, attempting to refocus, when I hear a scream from Chloe’s room. I toss the papers from my lap, almost tripping as I lunge out of bed and tear down the hallway toward her room.
“What is it? Are you okay?” I run smack into her, almost knocking the wind out of both of us. “What happened?”
“There’s a man!” she says, pointing toward the window.
“A man? Where?” My entire body goes flush as Alex’s words come back to me all at once:“These are the kind of people who will make you and your daughter disappear, and nobody will know where to find your bodies.”
“In the backyard.” She’s whispering, her eyes huge with fear as she points toward a window that overlooks the tiny patch of grass behind our townhome. “I got up to go pee and saw him when I was climbing back into bed.”
I grab her face, looking into her eyes. “Stay here,” I say before walking slowly toward her window just as the beam of a flashlight washes across the grass. It’s raining and drops pelt the window, running into each other and leaving the image of the person blurry. I squint, standing partly behind her curtain as I peek around it.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
Relief washes over me when he steps into view of the light pole and I see that it’s Alex. It’s quickly replaced with anger, though, when I realize what I feared would happenhashappened. His presence is now not only known to Chloe, but it scared the shit out of her.
“Just stay here, sweetheart. I’m going to go down and get a closer look.”
“Mom, no!” She grabs my hand, her eyes pleading.
“I promise I’ll be safe, don’t worry. I’m just going to see if it’s someone looking for a lost dog or keys. I promise I won’t put myself in danger.”
Her lip quivers as she reluctantly lets go of my hand. Guilt creeps in knowing I should just tell her who he is, but I’m worried it will only make things worse—put her more on edge if she thinks we’re in danger. I walk downstairs, sliding on my rain boots from the closet and grabbing a coat. I wrap it around me, pulling the hood over my head before slowly unlocking the back door and stepping outside on the back porch.
“What the hell are you doing?” I say in a half-whispered shout as I pull the coat tighter around my body. Alex freezes in his tracks, whipping the flashlight toward me. My hand darts up to shield my eyes until he lowers it, that big, stupid grin on his face.
“My job, ma’am. What areyoudoing?”
4
ALEX
“You know, you’re not doing a very good job of being stealthy. My daughter just saw you.” She thumbs over her shoulder, stepping back beneath the overhang.
“Not trying to be stealthy,” I say, taking a few more photos with my phone at the corners of the house. The security guys are coming tomorrow and I want to make sure I give them my full breakdown on where I think the cameras will be best situated. I’ve already done this walk during the day, but I wanted to check it at night and in rainy conditions with my night vision goggles to see if the trees would obstruct any views.
“Well, what if someone other than us saw you?”
“That’s kind of the point, ma’am.” I slide my phone into my back pocket and walk closer to where she’s standing.
“If the bad guys are watching my house, they now know you’re here. Doesn’t that kind of give everything away?”
I scratch the back of my head and step beneath the overhang and out of the rain. “I’m not sure what information you’re basing that on or what movie gave you the idea that I don’t want the bad guys to know I’m here, but again, that’s the point. The plan isn’t to use you as bait and lure them to you; it’s to send a message to them loud and clear that I’m here, always watching, and if they try anything, it will be the last thing they do because I’ll protect you.”
I see her face soften a bit, and maybe I’m imagining it, but it almost looks like a hint of pink darkens her cheeks. “Oh,” she says, dragging her teeth across her bottom lip, “I guess that makes more sense.”
I stare down at her, noticing the soft rhythm of the rain softly hitting the overhang above us . . . but the moment doesn’t last long.
