“Sit.”
“I need one more answer.” I faced the woman. “Did Clara leave willingly?”
“Yes, but she looked dizzy when she got into the car.”
***
After my breathing settled, Jackson drove me to Sarah’s home.
I placed Gwen’s photographs on her table.
“Clara saw these.”
“Did Clara leave willingly?”
Sarah’s face drained.
“She thought we were together?”
“She left me believing it.”
Sarah’s records proved every photograph showed a documented meeting.
Sarah looked at me.
“I told you to explain enough to Clara.”
“She thought we were together?”
“I couldn’t expose your case.”
“You could’ve protected me without shutting out your wife. You left an empty space, Andrew. Gwen filled it.”
On the drive home, I stared at the passing road.
***
I had mistaken faithfulness for innocence.
Clara asked for reassurance, and I’d handed her a wall Gwen used against us.
“I couldn’t expose your case.”
***
Back at the house, I unfolded Aria’s crayon note.
“She carried this guilt.”
“We don’t know that,” Jackson said.
“A child who writes this doesn’t forget it.”
My goal changed.
I still wanted the truth, but first, I needed to find my daughter before she spent another day believing she had destroyed our family.
“We don’t know that.”
***
After three days, Jackson found a school counselor matching Clara’s maiden name, the town, and Aria’s age.
In her photograph, she held one elbow, just as Aria did when nervous.
“That’s her.”
“Because she looks like Clara?”
“No. Because she looks like herself.”
Jackson offered to contact her, but I refused.
“Because she looks like Clara?”
