My Three Daughters Were Silent for 14 Months—Then They Named the Killer Living Under My Roof 3093

I reached the mansion thirty minutes after Sebastian arrived.

Reyes followed with two unmarked cars, but she did not pull into the drive. She parked down the road and called me.

"Do not go inside until we know where he is."

"My children are inside."

"Grace took them to the pool house with Mrs. Donnelly. Your security guard confirmed it."

I called Grace anyway. She answered on the first ring and made me listen while Olivia said, "We're okay." Sophie was beside her asking whether police cars could see through trees. Nora wanted to know if she could have hot chocolate.

Hearing ordinary questions steadied me in a way no armed guard ever had.

"Keep the door locked," I said.

"Already is," Grace replied. "Do what Reyes tells you."

"Everyone enjoys saying that to me."

"Maybe because you finally listen sometimes."

I looked toward the side lawn.

The pool house sat beyond a stand of bare maple trees, separate from the main residence.

"Then why is he here?"

"We don't know."

"He wants something."

"Probably. Which is why you wait."

A uniformed officer arrived at the gate.

Then another.

The district attorney had approved an arrest warrant while I was driving.

Reyes wanted a tactical team to clear the house because Sebastian's history and access to weapons were known.

I wanted to go through the front door.

For once, wanting did not decide it.

I stood beside Reyes's car while officers moved across my lawn.

The mansion looked absurdly peaceful in afternoon light.

Isabelle's tulips were beginning to push green tips through the beds near the south terrace. She had planted them herself because she said gardeners made rows too perfect.

A radio crackled.

West wing clear.

Kitchen clear.

Library clear.

Garage corridor—movement.

My body went rigid.

Then an officer's voice came through.

"Suspect not located. Service door open."

Reyes looked at me.

"Where does that door lead outside?"

"It doesn't. Garage corridor to wine cellar, then old coal passage."

"Coal passage?"

"Original house had deliveries through a lower service entrance. It was sealed when we renovated."

"Sealed how?"

"Masonry on the outside. Interior door still exists."

Reyes swore under her breath.

A memory came back.

Isabelle once complained that Sebastian used the old wine cellar as a place to smoke cigars during family parties because the ventilation fan still worked.

"There's a mechanical room behind the cellar," I said. "It connects to the generator bay. Generator bay opens to the north drive."

Reyes grabbed her radio.

I was already moving.

"Stop."

"He knows those passages better than your officers."

"And he knows you. That's more dangerous."

She caught my arm.

"Your daughters are safe. Stay here."

The words landed.

My daughters are safe.

I stopped.

Ten minutes later, officers reported the generator bay empty.

Sebastian had entered the house, gone through the service stair, and disappeared again.

But he had not come for money.

He had not taken a gun from the locked cabinet in his room.

He had not touched the passports in the office safe.

He had taken one thing.

On the nightstand, however, officers found the stuffed rabbit Nora had once left in his room after a movie night months before Isabelle died. Sebastian had set it upright against the lamp. He could have taken it. He did not.

I stood in the hallway looking at that rabbit through the open door and understood something I did not want to understand: a person could love a child and still terrify her. Affection did not cancel harm. Sometimes it made the harm harder for everyone else to name.

Our father's watch.

It had been in a drawer in the west-wing bedroom.

A plain steel Rolex with a scratched crystal and a replacement leather band. My father had worn it every day for twenty-seven years. When he died, I gave it to Sebastian because our father had already given me the business.

Reyes held up an evidence photograph of the empty drawer.

"Sentimental?"

"Very."

"If he's running, that may be why he risked coming back."

I looked toward the pool house.

"Or he wanted me to know he was here."

My phone rang.

Sebastian.

Reyes saw the name.

"Speaker."

I answered.

"Where are you?"

"You brought cops to the house."

His voice sounded tired.

"You came to the house with an arrest warrant coming."

"I came for Dad's watch."

"Why?"

"Because it belongs to me."

That was such a normal answer I almost hated him more for it.

"Seb, go to the police."

"You sound like Claire now."

"Good. She was right about more than I was."

He laughed quietly.

"They turned you fast."

"Nobody turned me."

"No? Grace? Reyes? Three scared little girls who don't understand what they saw?"

I looked at Reyes.

Her face did not change.

"They understand you were there."

Silence.

"I was there," Sebastian said.

Every officer within earshot became still.

Reyes pointed at the recording indicator on her phone. She had started it with the line open. Whether it would be usable was a question for lawyers later. In that moment, it did not matter to me.

"Why?" I asked.

"Not on the phone."

"Then where?"

"You and me. No cops."

"No."

A pause.

"You don't trust me."

"Not anymore."

I heard him breathe.

"I kept you alive for twenty years."

"And Isabelle?"

The line went quiet.