Chapter 4 - THE CALL THAT NEVER REACHED ME
“Who heard her?”
Adrian was standing now, gripping the desk with his uninjured hand.
Marcus looked at the paramedic's statement.
“A man named Thomas Reid. He was on the first ambulance crew.”
“Get him here.”
“Adrian,” Eleanor said, “he isn't one of your employees. You don't summon people because you want answers.”
Adrian turned toward her.
“My daughter was alive.”
“Yes,” Eleanor whispered. “And you need to understand why Claire wasn't told until it was too late.”
The accusation was unmistakable.
Vivian remained motionless beside the fireplace.
Adrian looked at her.
“Did Sophie ask for Claire?”
Vivian's lips parted.
“Yes.”
The room fell silent.
Adrian took one step closer.
“And you knew?”
Vivian began trembling.
“She kept saying she wanted her mother.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because you were unconscious.”
“You had my phone.”
She looked away.
“Vivian.”
“Yes.”
“Did you call Claire?”
Vivian shook her head.
Adrian stared at her in disbelief.
“You had my phone, and my daughter was asking for her mother.”
“I was injured. I was terrified. Everything was happening at once.”
“You could have called.”
Vivian covered her face.
“I know.”
Eleanor's voice cut through the room.
“That's enough for tonight. Marcus, arrange for the police to receive anything relevant. No one touches those records again.”
Adrian looked at his mother.
“You think I would hide them?”
“I think you have spent years confusing control with protection.”
Across the city, Claire was discovering that Sophie had been more frightened than anyone knew.
Mrs. Parker met her the following morning in a quiet room at the bookstore.
She was a middle-aged woman with kind eyes and a brown leather handbag resting on her knees.
“I should have contacted you sooner,” she said.
Claire held the spiral notebook.
“Why didn't you?”
Mrs. Parker looked ashamed.
“Your husband visited the school two days before the accident.”
Claire stiffened.
“Adrian?”
“He requested a private meeting.”
“What about?”
“Sophie had been unusually quiet. She'd stopped volunteering during reading time, and twice she asked whether children could make their parents stop arguing.”
Claire felt tears rising.
“We weren't arguing in front of her.”
“Sometimes children notice the silence between adults.”
Claire lowered her eyes.
Mrs. Parker continued.
“I told Mr. DeLuca I was concerned. He assured me everything was fine.”
“Of course he did.”
“But Sophie had also given me something.”
She opened her handbag and removed a white envelope decorated with purple hearts.
Claire recognized the handwriting immediately.
For Mommy. Only Mommy.
Her fingers shook as she opened it.
Inside was a drawing of a small yellow house.
Three people stood together beside a garden.
On the back, Sophie had written:
Mommy, can we live somewhere Daddy comes home?
Claire bent forward as grief overwhelmed her.
Mrs. Parker waited without speaking.
When Claire finally lifted her head, the teacher said gently, “There's another reason I wanted to see you.”
Claire wiped her eyes.
“What?”
“On the Friday before the accident, Sophie told me she didn't want to go with her father anymore.”
Claire froze.
“Why?”
“She said there was a lady who got angry when Daddy talked about you.”
“Vivian.”
Mrs. Parker nodded.
“She didn't know the woman's name.”
Claire stared at the drawing.
“I thought he was taking Sophie to her piano lesson that afternoon.”
“He picked her up early. The office believed you knew.”
Claire shook her head.
“No.”
Mrs. Parker reached across the table.
“Mrs. DeLuca, I can't tell you everything Sophie was feeling. But I can tell you she spoke about you constantly.”
Claire pressed the drawing to her heart.
“She was my whole world.”
“I know.”
For several minutes, they sat quietly.
Then Mrs. Parker mentioned something that made Claire look up.
“Sophie was wearing a little silver bracelet the last day I saw her. She told me her grandmother said stars could help people find their way home.”
Claire's breath caught.
“The bracelet.”
“She also said something strange.”
“What?”
Mrs. Parker hesitated.
“She said, 'If Daddy forgets, the star will remember.'”
Claire stared at her.
“What did that mean?”
“I asked. She said it was a secret.”
That afternoon, Adrian met Thomas Reid at a police interview room.
Reid was forty-three, with tired eyes and the measured voice of someone accustomed to telling families terrible news.
Adrian sat across from him.
“I want to know what happened.”
Reid studied him.
“Are you asking as Sophie's father or as the driver involved in the crash?”
Adrian swallowed.
“Both.”
Reid nodded slowly.
“When we arrived, your vehicle was against a tree below the roadway. You were unconscious. Miss Cole was awake and responsive.”
“And Sophie?”
“She was trapped behind the front passenger seat.”
Adrian gripped his knee.
“Was she in pain?”
Reid took a moment before answering.
“She was frightened.”
Adrian looked down.
“She asked for her mother.”
The words were almost unbearable.
“Repeatedly.”
“Did you tell her Claire was coming?”
“I told her we were doing everything we could to help her.”
Adrian's eyes filled.
Reid continued.
“She had a little rabbit beside her. She wanted us to keep it safe.”
Adrian pressed his fist against his mouth.
“And the bracelet?”
Reid looked surprised.
“What bracelet?”
“The silver bracelet she was wearing.”
Reid shook his head.
“I don't remember seeing one.”
“Vivian said she found it on the road.”
Reid frowned.
“Miss Cole never returned to the vehicle after we arrived. She was placed on a stretcher immediately.”
Adrian stared at him.
“Are you certain?”
“Yes.”
That meant Vivian had removed the bracelet before emergency crews reached them.
But why?
Reid opened his notebook.
“There's one detail I included in my report that the family liaison was supposed to discuss with Mrs. DeLuca.”
“What detail?”
“Your daughter was speaking when we arrived. She was trying to tell us something about the car.”
Adrian leaned forward.
“What did she say?”
Reid looked at him carefully.
“She said, 'Daddy looked at the phone.'”
Adrian's face changed.
He remembered the phone ringing.
Vivian's name flashing across the dashboard.
His own frustration.
His hand moving toward the screen.
Then Sophie's terrified voice.
Reid continued.
“She said, 'I told him to stop.'”
Adrian couldn't breathe.
May you like
The paramedic's next words stripped away the last comfortable lie Adrian had told himself.
“Mr. DeLuca, your daughter said she warned you about the curve before the SUV left the road.”
