Chapter 2 - WHAT WAS INSIDE THE RABBIT
Sawyer did not ask what was inside the rabbit.
Not yet.
Carolina was watching.
That alone told him the toy mattered.
“Move away from the door.”
Carolina crossed her arms.
“No.”
Sawyer took out his phone.
Her confidence changed instantly.
“Who are you calling?”
“Police.”
“Sawyer, don’t.”
“Move.”
“You’re going to destroy this family over a bruise?”
Gracie whimpered.
Sawyer looked at Carolina.
“A bruise?”
He dialed.
Carolina moved.
Not because she agreed.
Because she understood a dispatcher was about to hear everything.
Sawyer walked outside carrying Gracie.
Cold evening air hit them.
He put her carefully into the back seat of his SUV.
She refused to release the rabbit.
Carolina followed to the porch.
“You cannot just take her.”
Sawyer ignored her.
He gave the dispatcher his address.
Said his daughter was injured.
Said she had accused her mother of pushing her.
Said he was taking her for medical care unless law enforcement instructed otherwise.
The dispatcher told him officers were already being sent.
Sawyer waited.
He did not drive.
Not because Carolina deserved consideration.
Because he wanted the record clean.
Ten minutes later, two officers arrived.
Carolina became calm.
Sawyer almost laughed.
Same house.
Same woman.
Different audience.
“She slipped,” Carolina said.
Officer Michelle Hayes asked:
“Why does your daughter say you pushed her?”
“She’s upset because I disciplined her.”
“What discipline?”
“I took away her tablet.”
Gracie whispered from the SUV:
“That’s not true.”
Officer Hayes crouched beside the open door.
“You don’t have to talk right now.”
Gracie clutched Bunny.
Carolina pointed.
“She’s been carrying that stupid rabbit around for three days because she knows it annoys me.”
Gracie’s face tightened.
Sawyer looked at her.
Three days.
Something had happened three days ago.
The officer asked Carolina to step inside with her partner.
Sawyer remained with Gracie.
When they were alone, he whispered:
“What’s inside Bunny?”
Gracie immediately looked toward the house.
“Mom said I had to give it back.”
“Give what back?”
“She doesn’t know I still have it.”
Sawyer’s pulse quickened.
“What?”
Gracie felt along the rabbit’s side.
There was a seam Sawyer had never seen before.
Hand-sewn.
Sloppy.
Gracie pulled loose a thread.
Inside the stuffing was a small black memory card wrapped in tissue.
Sawyer stared.
“Where did you get this?”
Gracie whispered:
“Mrs. Kennedy gave it to me.”
The neighbor.
Sixty-two-year-old Margaret Kennedy lived directly across the side fence.
Quiet widow.
Retired elementary-school secretary.
Always gave Gracie popsicles in summer.
Sawyer looked toward her house.
Curtains closed.
No porch light.
“What did she say?”
Gracie’s eyes filled.
“She said if something happened, I had to give it to you.”
Sawyer stopped breathing.
“When did she give you this?”
“Yesterday.”
“Why?”
Gracie shook her head.
“She was crying.”
Then Gracie whispered:
“Mom saw us talking.”
Sawyer looked at the bruises again.
His anger became colder.
Police returned.
Officer Hayes said:
“We recommend taking Gracie for an examination. We’ll document the home and speak to both parents separately.”
Carolina came outside.
When she saw the rabbit still in Gracie’s hands, panic crossed her face.
“Give me that toy.”
Sawyer stepped between them.
“No.”
“It belongs in the house.”
“It belongs to Gracie.”
Carolina stared at him.
Then at the rabbit.
And Sawyer knew.
May you like
Whatever was on the memory card—
his wife was afraid of it.
