Page 159 of Bound By Fire
She comes across the entryway in one quick step and grabs my arm with both hands.
“Thank you,” she says. Her eyes are wide. “Thank you. Thank you. I’m so sorry. I’m so?—”
“Mommy?” A small voice from the doorway behind her. We all turn. There’s a little girl in pajamas with a bunny on them. She has big eyes and a pink dump truck in her hands.
“Hi, baby.” She lets go of my arm and crouches, and her whole face changes. “What is it, sweety?”
“I’m thirsty.”
“Do you want some milk?”
Her face brightens, and she smiles. She’s missing both of her front teeth.
“Yes, please.”
“Go sit on the rug, and I’ll bring it to you with some cookies.”
“Yay!” the little girl yells and does as her mother asks. The rug is covered in a whole array of toys.
“Can I get either of you anything?”
“We’re fine, thank you,” I say.
She nods. “Take a seat.” She disappears into the kitchen.
Flint and I look at one another.
“She isn’t a trained asset,” he says under his breath.
“Highly doubtful.” I shake my head.
We go into the living room and sit at the table. The kid watches us, picking up a large stuffed teddy bear.
Rachael comes back with a cup. She hands it to her daughter, kisses the top of her head, and then walks around the coffee table and sits on the chair opposite us. She tucks her hands between her knees.
“I’m so sorry,” she says quietly. “I feel terrible about it. I have not slept properly in over a week. I feel sick every time I think about it. I had no choice. You have to understand. I had no choice.”
“Start at the beginning,” I say. She pulls in a breath, glancing at her daughter, who has gone back to playing.
“I got a message,” she says. “On my phone. It wasn’t a number I knew. There were pictures of Katie attached,” she whispers the last, glancing at her little girl, who looks to be around five, maybe six at a push.
“The pictures were from the schoolyard and from the park. Whoever sent them had been close to her. Close enough to take pictures without me noticing. I—” She breaks. She presses her fingers to her mouth and holds them there. After a beat, she goes on. “They said if I went to the authorities, Katie would be killed. That was the first message.”
“Do you still have the messages?” Flint asks.
“Can we see them?”
“They told me to delete them. At first, I didn’t. I read them over and over. I almost went to the guards. I wanted to. I was going to. I engaged with them in the chat. I asked who they were. What they wanted. They said there was something they needed me to do. It wouldn’t be difficult or illegal. If I did this thing,they would go away and leave us alone. I was hesitant, as you can well imagine.” Her voice goes very small. “That’s when they threatened Katie. Told me they would hurt her,” she whispers. It’s clear that she’s trying to hold it together. “I think they could tell I was hesitating. Or maybe they just needed to make sure I understood that they were serious. Because the next…” Her voice hitches, and her breathing picks up. She pulls in another breath, and her eyes go glassy with unshed tears.
We leave her to pull herself together.
It takes her a minute.
The little girl starts singing softly to her doll, none the wiser. It seems to give Rachael the strength she needs to continue because she sits a little straighter in her chair and licks her lips.
“They sent me pictures from inside Katie’s bedroom,” she says. “Someone had been in my house. Inside her bedroom.” Her voice breaks a little. She pulls in a deep breath. “They were close-ups of her in bed, sleeping. They told me that next time, they wouldn’t take pictures. They would kill her and leave her in her bed for me to find in the morning.” She lets out a shaky breath. “I have never been so afraid in my life.”
Tears start to roll down her cheeks.
