Chapter 9: What Comes After
Three weeks passed.
Warren Gould was located in Philadelphia through the prepaid phone records and brought in for questioning.
He did not have his sister's composure.
He gave a full statement on the second day, including the dates he had surveilled Mia, the instructions Claire had given him, and the name of the storage unit where he had kept the original photographs before printing the copies found in the travel bag.
In exchange, he was offered a reduced charge.
Petra Holloway did not comment on whether she considered it a fair trade.
Nathan Cross was charged with unlawful imprisonment and conspiracy.
His attorney entered a not-guilty plea.
The arraignment lasted twenty minutes.
Dominic did not attend.
Claire Whitmore was charged with unlawful imprisonment, conspiracy, and filing a fraudulent legal claim.
Her estate attorney withdrew from the case within forty-eight hours of the charges being filed.
A criminal defense firm took over.
They advised her to consider the recordings carefully before deciding on a plea.
She considered them for eleven days.
On the twelfth day, she entered a guilty plea on two of the three charges.
The terms were not made public.
Dominic learned about the plea from Petra Holloway in a phone call that lasted four minutes.
"Is it done?" he asked.
"The financial claim has been vacated.
The criminal matter will go to sentencing in approximately sixty days."
"And Nathan?"
"Still not-guilty.
His attorney is arguing that his role was passive — that he was present but did not act.
The recordings complicate that argument significantly."
"Good."
"Mr.
Vale." Petra paused.
"For what it's worth — the dispatcher who received Ms.
Carter's call from the cellar.
We've looked into it.
The call was logged but the follow-up was deprioritized.
There's an internal review underway."
Dominic didn't say anything for a moment.
"Make sure Mia knows that," he said.
"Not for her sake.
For Harper's."
He ended the call and set the phone on his desk.
Outside the north window, the garden was bare.
November had come in fast this year, stripping the last of the leaves in a single cold week.
The lawn was grey-green and still, and the spot near the office window where someone had stood with a camera was just a patch of ground now, ordinary and unremarkable.
He looked at it for a long time.
Then he picked up the phone again and called Mia.
She answered on the second ring.
"How is she?" he asked.
"Asleep.
Finally." A small exhale.
"She's been fighting bedtime for two weeks.
I think she's afraid of what happens when I'm not in the room."
"That will pass."
"I know." A pause.
"Did you hear from the attorney?"
"Just now.
Claire entered a plea."
Silence on the line.
Not shock.
Something quieter.
"Okay," Mia said.
"You don't have to say anything else about it."
"I know." Another pause.
"Dominic.
I've been meaning to ask you something."
"Ask."
"When Harper found you on the steps.
When she told you." Mia's voice was careful, not fragile.
"You didn't hesitate.
You just — you crouched down and you listened to her.
A four-year-old in a nightgown." She stopped.
"Most people would have assumed she was confused.
Or that there was an explanation.
You didn't."
Dominic was quiet for a moment.
"She said her mother always kissed her goodbye," he said.
"Even for the grocery store."
"Yes."
"That was enough."
The line was quiet for a few seconds.
Outside, a bird landed on the garden wall and sat there, very still, facing the window.
"We're going to be fine," Mia said.
It wasn't a question.
May you like
"Yes," Dominic said.
"You are."
