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“I am sorry to bother you again, Dr. Jefferson. I just had a few more questions about the case I am working on.” He turned to look at the door he had come through. “Is your secretary out?”

“Myassistantis coming in shortly.”

It was a lie. I had told Mindy to work from home while things were up in the air with Dani. As far as she knew, I was out of town with a family emergency.

But the misogynistic asshole didn’t need to know that.

“Anyway, I just had a few more questions about”—he opened his notebook to read off a name—“Miss Christine Meadows. You were the psychologist on her case?”

“Yes.”

“What can you tell me about the child—” He looked down again and something felt off. “Here it is, Caylee Meadows.”

“Detective, I filed my reports with the police department and the courts. There isn’t much I can tell you beyond what has already been established.”

“Pardon my ignorance, Dr. Jefferson, but your report is filled with medical jargon that, quite frankly, is hard to understand. I was hoping you could put it in layman’s terms for me.”

“Caylee Meadows was severely abused both physically and sexually. She was neglected by her mother until a neighbor called the police when Caylee wouldn’t stop crying. At five years old, Caylee weighed only twenty-five pounds. Her speech was severely delayed, and she exhibited the emotional and mental capacity of a two-year-old.”

“And you felt you were experienced enough to recommend her removal from her mother?”

“Detective, I will do you one better. Since you have some difficulty with the medical jargon as you call it. A ten-year-old child is experienced enough to recommend Caylee be removed from her mother.”

“Now, Miss Jeff—”

“It is DR. Jefferson. I am a board-certified clinical psychologist with a doctorate in pediatric emotional trauma and rehabilitation. I have spent the better part of a decade training to be able to diagnose and treat emotional and sexual trauma among minors. There are medical reports that show the physical and sexual trauma Caylee endured as well as a signed confession from her mother admitting that she was neglectful and abusive, allowing the men she had traipsing through her home to have free rein over her child. So do not stand there and question my education and experience. I may be the youngest psychologist in my field, but I have studied and learned from the best. I assure you that removing Caylee from her mother’s care was the least that little girl deserved, and for you to suggest otherwise leads me to believe maybe you are a little too far removed from the situation.”

The detective sneered at me and asked, “What are you implying?”

“I am not implying anything. I am telling you to get the fuck out of my office.”

My insides were shaking. My heart was frantic inside my chest. Dani laid her head on my shoulder and wrapped her little arms around my neck. I knew she could feel the tension that turned my body to stone.

The detective looked at the child in my arms and I tightened my hold on her. With one last sneer in my direction, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him, and I sank down on to the couch, clutching Dani to my chest.

It was time to go.

That encounter from two days ago still had me on edge, so when I opened my mailbox today I planned for the note.

Only there wasn’t one.

Carrying Dani into the elevator, I spoke softly to her as we rode up through the floors.

“Today is the last day, sweetie. Tomorrow we are taking a trip.”

She smiled at me as she ate the cookie I gave her when we got out of the car. She was still small and underweight, so I figured anything I could do to help her put on some pounds wouldn’t hurt.

Walking out of the elevator, I was thumbing through the mail and didn’t see the note until I was standing at the door to my office.

I know the truth.

Opening my door, I placed my hand on the back of Dani’s head and pushed her face into my neck. My office had been destroyed. I didn’t know how someone had gotten in. The door was locked when I opened it.

I looked around, and the pillows and couch cushions were slashed open, stuffing falling out over the floor. My desk had been upturned, the drawers pulled out and thrown around the room.

The bookshelves holding books and puzzles and other small toys had been pushed over and smashed. Like someone had taken a sledgehammer to it.

My file cabinets lay open, file folders and papers strewn everywhere. I looked at the note in my hand again.