Chapter 4 - THE MAN WHO KNEW
I requested permission to speak with David.
Hale advised against it.
I insisted.
Two days later, I sat behind thick glass in a federal detention center.
David entered wearing a gray uniform.
Without the tailored suits and expensive watch, he looked smaller.
He picked up the phone.
So did I.
“Maya.”
I didn't respond.
His eyes searched my face.
“Where's Lily?”
“You knew.”
He froze.
“You knew she was sick.”
“Maya—”
“You listened to Dr. Patel's voicemail.”
His jaw tightened.
“I can explain.”
“You blocked the hospital.”
“I panicked.”
“You blocked the ICU.”
“I wasn't thinking clearly.”
“You were drinking champagne on a yacht.”
His eyes dropped.
“It wasn't like that.”
“Then tell me what it was like.”
He exhaled.
“Julianne and I were having problems.”
I stared at him.
“Our daughter was dying.”
“I didn't know she was dying.”
“The doctor said critically ill.”
“Lily got sick all the time.”
“No, she didn't.”
“You were always anxious about her.”
“So you thought I called fifty times for fun?”
David pressed his forehead against his hand.
“I made a mistake.”
“No.”
I leaned closer to the glass.
“You made a choice.”
He looked up.
“You chose Julianne.”
Silence.
“You chose the yacht.”
Silence.
“You chose champagne.”
His eyes watered.
“And Lily died waiting for you.”
His face collapsed.
“What?”
There it was.
The moment.
I had imagined screaming it.
Instead, my voice barely rose above a whisper.
“Lily died.”
David stopped breathing.
“No.”
“Fourteen days ago.”
“No.”
“I buried her while you were in the Bahamas.”
“No.”
His hand hit the glass.
“No!”
Guards turned.
David stood so fast the chair fell backward.
“No!”
I remained seated.
“She asked for you.”
He stared at me.
Tears appeared in his eyes.
“Stop.”
“Her last clear question was whether her daddy was coming.”
“Maya, stop.”
“I told her yes.”
He covered his face.
“I lied to our daughter so she wouldn't die knowing you chose another woman over her.”
David began sobbing.
Not elegant tears.
Not controlled grief.
His entire body shook.
For one dangerous second, I wanted to comfort him.
Ten years of marriage had trained that instinct into me.
Then I remembered Lily's tiny hand going cold inside mine.
I remained seated.
David finally looked at me.
“Where is she?”
“Rosewood Cemetery.”
He shook his head.
“No.”
“Section twelve.”
“Please.”
“Row four.”
“Please stop.”
“Her stone says Lily Grace Vance.”
David pressed both palms against the glass.
“I want to see her.”
“You can't.”
His face twisted.
“Why?”
“Because you're in federal custody.”
That sentence broke something inside him.
He slid into the chair.
“Maya, please.”
“You wanted two weeks without us.”
I stood.
“You got them.”
I placed the phone down.
David screamed my name as I walked away.
But halfway through the corridor, Agent Hale stopped me.
His expression was grim.
“We found Halcyon.”
I wiped my face.
“What?”
“The trust.”
He handed me a photograph.
It showed David standing beside another man outside a private bank in Zurich.
I recognized the man immediately.
Thomas Vance.
May you like
David's father.
A man supposedly dead for nine years.
