Chapter 7
“I know.”
“She seemed confused. She said he had promised.”
“I know.”
“She also told me she had something important to give him.”
“What?”
“I thought it was the drawing. But she kept saying it was in her purple backpack.”
My breath caught.
Grace’s purple backpack.
The one I had packed in Toronto without opening because it still smelled faintly of crayons and strawberry shampoo.
It was in the closet.
I stood so quickly that the chair scraped backward.
“Mrs. Alvarez,” I said, “did Grace tell you what was in the backpack?”
“No. She only said her daddy needed to see it before the surprise.”
“What surprise?”
“I don’t know. I assumed it was something she had made for him.”
I thanked her and ended the call.
The backpack was still where I had left it, tucked beneath the winter clothes I had not unpacked.
My fingers trembled as I pulled it out.
There was a small lunch container, empty except for a few crumbs. A coloring book. Three crayons without wrappers. A plastic comb. A folded tissue with a sticker stuck to it.
Then my hand touched something hard in the front pocket.
I pulled out a small envelope.
The front had been decorated with blue stars.
For Daddy.
I sat on the floor.
Inside was a key.
Not a house key. A small brass key attached to a red plastic tag.
I recognized it immediately.
It belonged to the old storage room beneath the study in our Chicago home.
We rarely used the room. It held old furniture, holiday decorations, and boxes of documents Alexander never allowed the staff to organize.
Taped to the key was another note.
Daddy,
Mommy said you have a surprise for me soon. I have one for you too. Don’t open until Mommy is with you.
Love, Grace
I read it twice.
Then a third time.
Alexander had not mentioned a surprise for Grace.
He had mentioned Olivia’s birthday surprise.
But Grace had believed he had one for her.
I sat on the floor with the note in my lap, trying to understand.
Maybe I had misunderstood her that morning.
Maybe she had overheard a conversation.
Maybe Alexander had once promised her something and forgotten.
Yet the key bothered me.
Grace could not have known about the storage room unless someone had shown her.
I called Daniel.
He answered cautiously. “Mrs. Hayes?”
“I need to ask you something.”