Chapter 13 - Lucy Became Afraid of Closed Doors
For months, the pool was not Lucy’s biggest fear.
Closed doors were.
A refrigerator shutting too loudly.
A bathroom latch clicking.
The pantry door closing behind someone.
Each sound made her look up.
Sometimes she ran toward the nearest adult before she even knew why.
Her therapist explained that this was not unusual.
The freezer had taught her a simple association:
A closed door could mean adults would not believe where she was.
We worked slowly.
No forced exposure.
No jokes about hiding.
No “see, there’s nothing to be scared of.”
Instead, control.
Lucy opened doors herself.
Closed them herself.
Learned which rooms had interior releases.
The service freezer where Cassandra trapped her was removed from use during the investigation.
Later, the estate replaced it with a commercial unit equipped with a clearly tested internal safety release and alarm.
Lucy did not need to see it.
The repair was for everyone.
Safety should not depend on whether another six-year-old could bang loudly enough to be heard.
Her stuffed rabbit slept beside her every night.
The note went somewhere different.
I kept the original with the case documents.
Then made a copy for myself.
Not because I wanted to preserve her fear.
Because one line kept me accountable.
Please find me.
I had been her father the whole time.
May you like
But that note reminded me there had been a day when she was not sure I would come.
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