CHAPTER 17: THE BELL AT MIDNIGHT

Patricia rang my doorbell at 12:09 on Saturday morning.
I saw her through the glass and did not open the door.
She wore a dark coat and held a plastic grocery bag.
“Daniel, please,” she said through the door.
“I need five minutes.”
I told her to leave and contact the investigator handling the case.
She held up the bag.
“I have the envelope.”
My heart thudded, but I kept the chain on the door.
“Set it down and go home.”
“I can’t go home,” she whispered.
“Martin told the police everything.”
“Then you should tell them the truth too.

”
She shook her head and looked toward the street.
“They’re going to make me look like a monster.”
“You threatened a child.”
Patricia pressed a palm against the glass.
“I saved her father.”
“You helped him once,” I said.
“That does not make his daughter yours.”
Her face changed.
For a moment, I thought she would break the glass.
Instead, she lowered the bag and spoke very quietly.
“Laurel promised she would never turn Owen against me.”
“You don’t know what Laurel told him.”
“I know he won’t see me.”
“That’s his choice.”
She wiped her cheeks with the sleeve of her coat.


“I lost everything for that boy.”
I wanted to say she had made that choice herself.
Then I realized she had spent twenty-two years using her sacrifice as a debt she expected everyone else to repay.
I told her again to leave the envelope.
Patricia backed away without setting it down.
“You’ll regret taking their side,” she said.
She disappeared into the dark.
I called Ortiz and reported the contact.
I did not sleep again that night.