“No.”
“Did he ever tell you that he picked her up after piano practice?”
“No.”
The detective nodded slowly.
“That is what he told us ten years ago.”
My stomach twisted.
“But that’s not what happened?”
“No.”
“What happened?”
Detective Miller looked at Rick.
Then he looked at me.
“Your husband told investigators that he was at work that entire afternoon.”
I turned toward Rick.
“Were you?”
His lips parted.
No words came out.
The detective continued.
“We’ve obtained records that suggest otherwise.”
I felt my knees weakening.
“What kind of records?”
“Phone records. Traffic-camera footage. And financial transactions.”
I covered my mouth.
Rick whispered my name.
“Laura, please.”
I backed away from him.
“You lied to me.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“Protect me from what?”
He looked at the officers.
Then at me.
And finally, after ten years of silence, he said four words.
“I know where she is.”
Everything inside me stopped.
The room became silent.
I could hear my own heartbeat.
“Where?”
Rick closed his eyes.
The detective immediately stepped toward him.
“Rick, don’t say anything until your attorney arrives.”
But I didn’t care.
I grabbed the edge of the table.
“Where is my daughter?”
He opened his eyes.
Tears were running down his face.
And then he whispered something that made the world disappear beneath my feet.
“She isn’t missing, Laura.”
I stared at him.
