Three Years In Chains, A Lifetime Of Vengeance

The small piece of cardboard slipped out from the puzzle box and landed in my hand. The little cutout barely reached the size of my thumb.

Someone had carefully trimmed the edges into a heart. Lily loved shapes like that more than anything.

On her third birthday, I gave her a pair of safety scissors as a gift. She sat at the table and cut out heart after heart, then stuck them everywhere she could reach. At one point Michael laughed and said, "At this rate, our house is turning into a heart factory."

Across the cardboard, a flower appeared in thick red crayon. The petals spread wide and nearly filled the entire space.

Under the drawing, a row of uneven block letters had been written by a child's hand. "R_S_."

My breathing stopped for a moment.

It was a word puzzle.

Lily and I were the only two people who understood those little games.

Memories rose up all at once. Many nights passed like that in our bedroom. Warm light filled the room while Lily curled against me in her star patterned pajamas. The scent of her bath still lingered in her hair.

I would whisper small riddles to her. She would lift her head, think for a second, and then shout the answer with bright excitement before earning a kiss on her forehead.

"Mama, give me another one!" she would beg while gripping the corner of my shirt. "Make the next one harder!"

Whenever she said that, I would pull her into a hug. My heart always filled with pride. Lily was quick, thoughtful, and curious.

But now... Where was she?

My fingers tightened around the small piece of cardboard.

The red crayon looked slightly faded. It clearly wasn't something she had drawn recently.

When did she hide this inside the puzzle box? Did she write it when she felt scared? Or when she missed me?

Two letters were missing from the word. The second and fourth spaces remained blank.

"ROSE?"

The answer appeared in my mind without warning. Another memory followed right after. The last time I walked Lily to her preschool.

She held hands with a blonde girl while they ran up to me. "Mama," Lily said happily, "this is my new friend, Rose Lloyd! She shares cookies with me, and she draws really pretty flowers!"

Rose raised her hand and waved at me. Lily stood beside her and quickly showed me what they had made together. She held up two drawings done with crayons. Each drawing showed a flower. One flower was red, and the other one was yellow.

Rose spoke in a quiet voice. "Lily said you like flowers, so we drew some for you."

I crouched down and hugged both girls. Seeing Lily make a friend brought warmth to my heart. Even with everything happening in my life, moments like that made me happy.

So the missing word could be "ROSE."

That thought cut through the darkness in my heart.

Lily had been trying to leave me a message.

Perhaps she sensed danger coming. Within the limits of what she could do, she used the puzzle language we shared to leave me a clue.

She believed I would come back and understand.

My vision blurred with tears.

Suddenly I sat up, and my heart began racing.

Cold anger and grief rushed through me. My body began to tremble.

That night, I barely slept.

Outside the window, the sky slowly changed from black to blue and then to the pale light of dawn.

Birds began to chirp in the distance. A new day had arrived. A new day in a world without Lily.

I stood up and walked to the window. The fountain outside caught the morning light, and the gardener was already working.

Everything outside looked calm. Inside me, nothing was calm.

When I looked in the mirror, the face staring back felt unfamiliar. My eyes were red and swollen. My face looked pale, and shadows lay beneath my eyes.

When I went downstairs, Bale was already eating breakfast in the dining room.

Elegant silverware lined the long table, and the smell of fruit and toasted bread filled the room.

Across from me sat Bale. A crisp shirt and wool vest gave him the calm appearance of a father.

He lowered his newspaper and studied my face. "Good morning, Anna," he said. "You didn't sleep much last night, did you?"

I took the seat opposite him. A maid stepped forward and placed hot coffee and breakfast in front of me.

"My daughter left something behind," I said, my voice rough from the sleepless night. "I found a cardboard piece from her puzzle box. It points to a girl named Rose, a friend from her preschool. I want to go to the preschool today."

Approval showed in Bale's eyes as he listened. "You noticed the clue quickly," he said. "Lily's death hasn't crushed you. It seems to have given you strength instead." After a short pause, he continued, "Should I arrange a car for you? Or would you like someone to go with you?"

"I think it would be better if someone came with me," I answered honestly. "If I go by myself, I might lose control of my emotions. It could draw attention."

"That can be arranged." Bale wiped his mouth with a napkin and pressed the bell beside the dining table. A few minutes later, a woman in her early thirties entered the room. Her suit fit neatly, and her manner was calm and efficient.

Bale spoke first. "Katherine, this is Anna Brown." Then he looked toward me. "Anna, this is Katherine Morris, my assistant. She will go with you today and help with anything you need."

Katherine greeted me with a polite smile. "It's nice to meet you, Anna. Mr. Smith already explained your situation to me. I will do everything I can to assist you."

Her eyes held no pity. What I saw instead was respect and understanding.

A small sense of relief settled in me.

By nine that morning, Katherine had already brought the car around. She drove a black sedan and took me toward Sunshine Preschool.

The vehicle moved through the streets of Kregan at a steady pace. Christmas had already spread across the city. Store windows displayed decorations. Strings of colored lights stretched across the streets. People walked past carrying shopping bags, their faces bright with holiday excitement.

Each scene struck my heart painfully.

Last year around this same time, I made a Christmas card for Lily while I was still in prison.

On that card I drew a Christmas tree. I also drew the three of us together. Beneath the picture I wrote a long message about how much I missed her.

Even now, I still didn't know whether she ever received it. Michael never said a word about that card.

Katherine's voice broke the silence. She glanced at me through the rearview mirror. "Are you holding up alright?"

My eyes remained fixed on the streets outside.

"I keep wondering about Lily's Christmas last year," I said quietly. "Did she have a tree? Did she open any presents? Did anyone read The Night Before Christmas to her?"

For a moment, Katherine didn't respond.

Then she spoke in a calm voice. "When you find out what really happened, you'll be able to do something for her. You can honor her in your own way."