Chapter 6 - What the Flashlight Showed
The kennel is exactly what Emily described. Wire mesh, concrete floor, a smell that fifteen years hasn't scrubbed out no matter how much bleach Diane pours on it.
Renata crouches at the entrance, flashlight beam sweeping the interior.
A folded blanket, hidden under a loose floorboard exactly where a child would hide something she needed to keep secret from someone who'd take it away.
A stuffed rabbit with one chewed ear.
A flashlight with a battery so dead it barely produces a glow, tucked into the corner like a talisman against the dark.
None of this is what a mother installs for a child who "never" sleeps out here.
This is a child's survival kit.
Renata photographs everything. Diane stands at a distance, arms crossed, watching the flashlight beam move across evidence she apparently never thought anyone would look at closely enough to see as evidence.
"She must have set that up herself," Diane says. "For pretend. Kids play pretend."
"With a working system for staying warm and finding her way in the dark?"
Diane doesn't answer.
Renata straightens up, knees protesting, and turns to face her.
"Mrs. Novak, based on what I've observed today, I'm going to need to take further action. Emily will be placed in temporary protective custody while this investigation continues."
"You can't just—"
"I can. And I am."
Diane's careful mask finally slips all the way, and underneath it isn't remorse. It's fury, cold and precise.
"She's a liar," Diane hisses. "She's always been a liar, ever since her mother — she makes things up, she wants attention, and now you're going to tear this family apart because a seven-year-old told a pretty story to her teacher?"
"I've seen the evidence with my own eyes," Renata says. "This isn't a story."
May you like
Somewhere behind the house, wind moves through the wire mesh of the kennel, a low, hollow sound, like the structure itself is exhaling something it's held too long.
---
