Chapter 3 - Her Name Was Lily Blake
Ryan did not tear open the wall.
He found the service-door key first.
Claire finally admitted there was an entrance from the mudroom corridor, though she kept begging him to wait.
Ryan ignored her.
Ethan followed several steps behind until Ryan told him firmly to stay in the kitchen.
Then Ryan unlocked the old maintenance door.
Inside was a narrow but walkable service passage, dark except for light filtering through the kitchen vent.
A five-year-old girl sat against the wall in pale pajamas.
Messy brown hair.
Red eyes.
A small backpack beside her.
She looked exhausted and frightened, but physically unharmed.
When Ryan appeared, the girl stared at him as though she had known his face much longer than he had known hers.
“Daddy?”
Ryan dropped to one knee.
“My name is Ryan.”
The child nodded.
“I know.”
“What’s your name?”
“Lily.”
“Lily what?”
“Lily Blake.”
The surname hit him.
Not because it was rare.
Because there had only been one Nora Blake in his life.
Six years earlier.
During one of the worst periods of his marriage to Claire.
Ryan stood up so quickly he struck his shoulder against the service-wall frame.
Claire was behind him now, crying.
He turned toward her.
“Why is Nora Blake’s daughter in my house?”
Claire said nothing.
Lily answered instead.
“My mommy said you were my daddy.”
Ryan looked back at her.
The girl reached into her backpack and pulled out a folded photograph.
An old one.
Ryan recognized it before she handed it over.
Himself and Nora Blake standing outside a Boston coffee shop.
He had forgotten anyone had taken that picture.
Lily hadn’t.
May you like
Because according to her, her mother kept it beside her bed.
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