Chapter 4: The Messages He Couldn't Explain
Scott read Derek's message for the fourth time.
Whatever Audrey told them, she's not telling the whole story.
The words glowed on his phone screen, ordinary words from a man he'd known for thirty years.
Yet something about them had changed everything.
Scott lowered the phone slowly.
"Maybe he's trying to tell us there's more going on," he said.
I stared at him.
"More going on than what?""
"I don't know, Claire. That's why we need to talk to him.""
"Then why didn't he explain himself in the message?""
Scott rubbed his forehead.
"Because it's a text message. Maybe he doesn't want to discuss something this serious over the phone.""
I wanted to scream.
Our daughter was missing from her normal routine, frightened to tell us where she was, and apparently convinced that we might believe Derek over her.
Yet Scott was still searching for reasons to protect his friend.
I couldn't entirely blame him.
Thirty years of friendship had created a kind of certainty between them. Scott had known Derek when they were teenagers, when their biggest problems involved bad grades, broken cars, and getting enough money together for weekend trips.
Derek had stood beside him through our wedding preparations.
He'd driven Scott to the hospital when his father suffered a heart attack.
He'd helped us move into our first house and spent an entire Saturday assembling furniture when Audrey was a baby.
Those memories were real.
But they didn't answer the question that mattered now.
What had happened to Audrey?
"Scott," I said quietly, "I'm asking you to look at what he's actually saying.""
He glanced at the phone.
"He's saying she isn't telling the whole story.""
"Exactly. He's already suggesting our daughter is lying before we've even heard her side.""
"That's not necessarily what he means.""
"Then he can explain what he means without us giving him the benefit of every doubt.""
Scott looked at me for a long moment.
Finally, he put the phone in his pocket.
"All right. I won't call him tonight.""
It wasn't the promise I'd wanted, but I accepted it.
For the moment.
We spent the next hour trying to reach Audrey.
I called twice.
Scott called once.
Neither of us received an answer.
I sent another message telling her that she wasn't in trouble and that we wouldn't force her to explain anything before she was ready.
Then I sat at the kitchen table and watched Scott walk back and forth between the counter and the window.
Every few minutes, he checked his phone.
I knew he was waiting for Derek to send another message.
I was waiting, too.
The difference was that I dreaded seeing his name appear.
At nine-thirty, my phone vibrated.
For one foolish second, I thought it might be Audrey.
Instead, it was a notification from the ballet studio.
The subject line read: *Audrey Bennett — Attendance and Program Status.*
My stomach tightened.
I opened it.
The message explained that Audrey's place in the advanced teen program had been placed on temporary hold because of her recent absences.
The studio had attempted to contact us several times.
They wanted to arrange a meeting before making any final decisions about her scholarship.
I read the email twice.
Then I handed the phone to Scott.
He read it silently.
"Her scholarship," he murmured.
"She could lose it.""
He sat down heavily.
"I didn't know she'd missed that many classes.""
"Neither did I.""
For several seconds, we sat without speaking.
I thought about the note on Audrey's desk.
I wish I could go back to when dancing was the only thing I was afraid of.
She'd been afraid of something beyond the classroom.
Something that had taken away the one activity she'd always loved.
And now she might lose the scholarship she'd worked so hard to earn.
"Maybe we should contact the studio again," Scott said.
"Ask them to give her more time.""
"I will.""
"And maybe Derek can help explain what's been happening.""
I turned toward him.
"Why would Derek be the person who explains what happened to Audrey?""
He flinched.
"I didn't mean it like that.""
"Then don't make him the center of every conversation about our daughter.""
Scott looked down at his hands.
"I'm trying to understand.""
"So am I.""
My voice softened.
"I know this is difficult for you. I know what Derek means to you. But I need you to understand something.
Audrey didn't stop dancing because she suddenly forgot how much she loved it. Something happened, and she needs us to find out what it was.""
He nodded slowly.
For the first time that evening, I thought he might truly be listening.
Then his phone rang.
Derek.
Scott stared at the screen.
I shook my head.
He let it ring until it stopped.
A moment later, a message arrived.
Call me. This is getting serious.
Scott put the phone facedown.
Neither of us spoke.
But I noticed that he didn't defend Derek this time.
The following morning, I went back to Fernwick.
I wanted to speak with Ms. Alvarez again, and I wanted to understand how much the studio knew about Audrey's situation.
I also needed to make sure nobody contacted Derek without considering the consequences.
Ms. Alvarez met me in her office.
She looked tired.
"I was hoping you'd come back," she said.
"Have you heard from Audrey?""
"She sent me a brief message last night. She said she was safe, but she wasn't ready to return.""
I exhaled slowly.
"Did she tell you where she is?""
"No. I didn't ask her to disclose anything she wasn't comfortable sharing.""
I appreciated that more than I could explain.
"Ms. Alvarez, I need to know what happened during those drives.""
She folded her hands.
"I can tell you what Audrey shared with me, but I can't claim to know everything.""
"Of course.""
"She said Derek began making comments about how mature she was for her age. At first, she thought he was simply being friendly.""
My throat tightened.
"What kind of comments?""
"She said he told her she understood adults better than most teenagers. He would ask her questions about your marriage and suggest that she was old enough to keep certain things between them.""
I felt cold.
"What things?""
"She didn't give me a complete account.""
Ms. Alvarez paused.
"But she did say he became upset when she refused to answer personal questions.""
I remembered the conversation outside our house.
The way Audrey had gripped his sleeve.
The words she'd whispered.
You promised you'd talk to her.
"What did she want him to talk to me about?""
"I don't know.""
"Did she say anything about being alone with him?""
"She said the drives became increasingly uncomfortable. She also said she started asking him to leave her at the entrance rather than wait outside the studio.""
"Did he agree?""
"Sometimes. Other times, she said he insisted on walking her to the door.""
My hands tightened in my lap.
"Did she ever tell you that he touched her?""
Ms. Alvarez looked at me carefully.
"I don't want to put words in her mouth, Mrs. Bennett. She hasn't given me permission to share every detail of our conversations, and I won't invent anything she hasn't said.""
I swallowed.
"I understand.""
"But I will tell you this. Audrey was visibly distressed. She told me she felt pressured to keep things private, and she became frightened whenever she thought someone might ask questions about Derek.""
That was enough to make my heart ache.
Not enough to tell me exactly what had happened.
But enough to tell me my daughter needed protection and patience, not interrogation.
"Did she ever mention a specific incident?""
Ms. Alvarez hesitated.
"She told me about one drive when she asked Derek to take her directly home because she didn't feel well.""
I leaned forward.
"What happened?""
"She said he refused to take her home immediately. He told her they needed to finish a conversation first.""
My pulse quickened.
"About what?""
"She wouldn't tell me.""
"How long did it take?""
"I don't know. She only said she arrived home later than expected.""
I remembered several evenings when Audrey had come through the door unusually quiet.
I'd asked whether traffic had been bad.
She'd shrugged.
I'd accepted the explanation because Derek had always seemed reliable.
"Did you report this to anyone?"" I asked.
Ms. Alvarez nodded.
"I spoke with the studio director about Audrey's distress and our responsibility to make sure she felt safe here. We documented the concerns and made it clear that she wouldn't be required to return to class before she was ready.""
I felt some of the tension leave my shoulders.
"Thank you.""
"I also encouraged Audrey to speak with a trusted adult outside the studio. Someone who could help her understand her options without pressuring her to make decisions before she was ready.""
"Did she?""
"She said she was considering it.""
I stared at the folder on the desk.
My daughter had been trying to find help while I stood in my kitchen wondering why she wouldn't talk to me.
I felt ashamed.
But I knew shame wouldn't help her now.
"What should I do?"" I asked.
Ms. Alvarez considered the question.
"Make it clear that she can tell you the truth without being responsible for what happens afterward.""
I nodded.
"And don't insist that she explain everything immediately.""
"I won't.""
"One more thing.""
She reached into a drawer and removed a printed attendance record.
"This may help you understand when the changes began.""
She placed it in front of me.
The first several weeks showed regular attendance.
Then the late arrivals began.
After that came the absences.
I noticed something else.
On the dates Audrey had missed class, the studio had recorded that someone had called to cancel.
"Who called?""
Ms. Alvarez checked the notes.
"According to the records, the cancellations were communicated by telephone. We didn't always speak directly with Audrey.""
"Did Derek call?""
"We can't verify that from these records.""
I studied the dates.
One of them was the evening I'd found Audrey crying behind the bathroom door.
Another was the week she'd told me she wasn't auditioning.
A third was the day Scott said Derek had asked whether Audrey had told us anything.
I photographed the attendance sheet with Ms. Alvarez's permission.
Then I thanked her and left.
In the parking lot, I called Scott.
"Can you meet me at home?""
"What's happened?""
"I need to show you something.""
"Is it about Audrey?""
"Yes.""
He agreed to come home early.
For the first time in days, I felt as though I had something concrete to discuss rather than a growing collection of fears.
But when I reached the house, Scott was already there.
He stood in the living room holding a photograph.
It was one of our old family pictures, taken at Audrey's tenth birthday party.
Derek stood beside Scott, one hand resting on his shoulder.
They were both laughing.
Scott looked up when I entered.
"Claire, I need to tell you something.""
My heart began pounding.
"What?""
He set the photograph on the table.
"Derek came by this morning.""
I froze.
"You saw him?""
"He said he wanted to clear things up before this became a bigger problem.""
I stared at him.
"What did he say?""
Scott swallowed.
"He said Audrey had misunderstood some conversations. That she'd been upset about her classes and had started blaming him because he was the one driving her.""
I felt a cold anger rise inside me.
"Did he explain what conversations she'd misunderstood?""
"He said he didn't want to discuss private things she'd told him.""
"Private things?""
Scott nodded.
"He said she'd confided in him about problems at school and some tension between us.""
I stared at my husband.
"Audrey told Derek things about our marriage?""
"He claims she did.""
"And you believe him?""
Scott looked away.
"I don't know what to believe anymore.""
That answer hurt more than I expected.
Not because I wanted him to believe Derek.
Because I wanted him to understand that Audrey's fear was real, even if we still lacked the complete story.
I took out my phone and showed him the attendance records.
"Look at these dates.""
He studied the page.
His expression changed as he recognized the pattern.
"These are all the days she missed?""
"Or arrived late.""
He moved closer to the screen.
Then he stopped at one particular entry.
"What day is this?""
I checked.
"Three weeks ago.""
Scott stared at it.
"That's the day Derek told me he had to work late.""
My stomach tightened.
"Why?""
"He said he'd asked another person to bring Audrey home after class.""
"Who?""
Scott shook his head.
"He never said.""
I felt the room tilt.
"Did Audrey come home that night?""
"Yes. I remember because she went straight upstairs.""
I looked at the date again.
The studio had recorded an absence.
Derek had told Scott he was working late.
And Audrey had returned home in silence.
We still didn't know what any of it meant.
But the pieces no longer fit together neatly.
Scott picked up his phone.
"I need to ask Derek about this.""
"No.""
He looked at me sharply.
"Claire, we can't keep avoiding him.""
"We need to find Audrey and make sure she's safe before we do anything else.""
"What if Derek knows something that could help us find her?""
I stared at him.
"What if warning him gives him time to influence her again?""
Scott went pale.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke.
Then his phone vibrated.
A new message from Derek appeared.
Scott opened it.
I watched his eyes move across the screen.
Then he turned the phone toward me.
Derek had sent a photograph.
It showed Audrey sitting in the passenger seat of his car, her face turned toward the window.
I recognized the jacket she was wearing.
I recognized the hair tie around her wrist.
And I recognized the date in the corner of the photograph.
It was from the same evening she'd come home crying behind the bathroom door.
Beneath the image, Derek had written:
You should ask your daughter what she told me that night.
I stared at the photograph until the edges blurred.
Then I noticed something in the reflection of the passenger window.
A second person was standing outside the car.
Someone whose face I couldn't clearly see.
May you like
Someone who appeared to be looking directly at Audrey.
And for the first time, I wondered whether Derek had been the only person involved in whatever had frightened my daughter.
