Chapter 6
Dad made a sound I had never heard before.
Not crying.
Not yelling.
Something deeper.
Like his heart had cracked all the way through.
Grandma grabbed the back of a chair.
I stared at the picture on the table.
Karen in blue scrubs.
Karen with her hair tucked under a cap.
Karen walking into Mom’s hospital room like she belonged there.
Eleven minutes before the alarm.
I did not understand all of it.
But I understood enough.
Karen had been there.
Before she became my stepmother.
Before she moved into our house.
Before she locked me outside.
She had been near Mom.
Detective Harris said the hospital records showed no authorized visitor named Karen Wells.
That was her maiden name.
No employee record.
No volunteer record.
Nothing.
She had dressed like someone safe and walked in.
Dad stood suddenly.
“I’m going to kill her.”
Grandma slapped the table.
“No.”
Dad froze.
Grandma’s voice shook.
“Do not give that woman your life too.”
Dad covered his face.
“I loved Lily.”
“I know.”
“I let Karen into our house.”
“You were grieving.”
“I married the woman who may have hurt my wife.”
Grandma stepped closer.
“And now you will help prove it. You will not become reckless. Mason needs a father, not another tragedy.”
Dad looked at me.
I was crying quietly.
He came to me and knelt.
“I’m sorry.”
I whispered, “Did Karen make Mommy die?”
He closed his eyes.
“We don’t know everything yet.”
“But maybe?”
His tears fell.
“Maybe.”
That answer hurt.
But it was truth.
I was starting to learn truth could hurt and still be safer than lies.
Police arrested Karen again the next morning.
This time, the charges included child endangerment, assault, illegal medication use, stalking, and obstruction.
They still did not charge her for Mom.
Not yet.
Detective Harris said they needed more than images.
They needed proof of what happened in the room.
Vince became the key.
But Vince had vanished.
For a week, life became waiting.
Waiting for phone calls.
Waiting for court.
Waiting for nightmares to stop.
Waiting for someone to find the man who smelled like cigarettes and peppermint.
Then Grandma remembered something.
“The phone,” she said.
We were eating breakfast.
I looked up.
“What phone?”
“Lily’s old phone. The one Mason used. Did anyone check the old messages?”
Dad frowned.
“It barely works.”
“But it belonged to Lily before Mason. She may have saved something.”
Detective Harris had the phone.
They sent it to a digital lab.
It took three days.
On the third day, Detective Harris came to Grandma’s house.
He brought a laptop.
Dad sat beside me.
Grandma held my hand.
“There are old deleted recordings,” the detective said.
Dad stopped breathing.
“One was made the night Lily went to the hospital.”
He pressed play.
At first, there was only static.
Then Mom’s voice.
Weak.
Breathing hard.
“If something happens to me, Karen Wells is not who she says she is.”
Dad bent forward, sobbing.
Mom continued.
“She has been following Evan. She said Mason would learn to call her Mommy.”
My whole body went cold.
Grandma whispered, “Lily.”
Then another voice appeared.
Karen.
Soft.
Too close.
“You should stop fighting. He’ll be happier with someone healthy.”
Mom gasped.
“Get out.”
Karen laughed.
Then the recording filled with movement.
A door.
A struggle.
Mom coughing.
Then Vince’s voice.
“Karen, hurry.”
Dad stood so fast the chair fell.
Detective Harris stopped the recording.
“There is more,” he said.
Dad shook his head.
“Play it.”
The detective looked at Grandma.
Then at me.
Grandma pulled me close.
He pressed play again.
Mom’s voice came back, barely a whisper.
“Mason, my sweet boy, if you hear this, call Grandma. Always call Grandma.”
The recording ended.
The room shattered.
Dad fell to his knees.
Grandma cried into my hair.
And I held the old phone like it was Mom’s hand reaching through time.
Then Detective Harris’s phone rang.
He answered.
May you like
His face changed.
“They found Vince.”
