Chapter 3 - WHAT LILY REMEMBERED
Lily slept until almost noon.
I didn't.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her behind the shed.
Mud on her pajamas.
Her hand wrapped around Buster's fur.
You're a ghost.
Those three words kept repeating in my head.
A child psychologist named Dr. Nora Bennett came into the room after breakfast.
She explained that she wanted to speak with Lily gently.
No pressure.
No leading questions.
I agreed.
I sat close enough for Lily to reach me.
Dr. Bennett placed crayons on the table.
"Can you draw your house?"
Lily nodded.
She drew our blue house.
The swing set.
The shed.
Then she drew a brown dog beside a small stick figure.
"Who's that?"
Dr. Bennett asked.
"Me and Buster."
"Where's Daddy?"
Lily paused.
Then she picked up a black crayon.
She drew a box beneath the ground.
My throat closed.
"Mommy said Daddy was there."
Rachel hadn't simply told our daughter I was dead.
She had made Lily imagine my grave.
Dr. Bennett continued carefully.
"When did Mommy tell you that?"
"When Daddy stopped calling."
I leaned forward.
I had called.
Every chance I had.
Sometimes through unstable connections.
Sometimes only for two minutes.
But I had called.
"Did Mommy let you talk to Daddy?"
Lily shook her head.
"She said the phone was broken."
It wasn't.
I knew that because Rachel had answered my calls.
She had simply stopped bringing Lily to the phone.
Then Lily said something worse.
"Mommy said you didn't want me scared before you died."
I had to look away.
Rachel had rewritten my absence into abandonment.
Dr. Bennett asked about Brad.
Lily's shoulders tightened.
"He sleeps in Daddy's room."
My bedroom.
I stared at the floor.
"He gets mad when I ask about Daddy."
"Does Mommy get mad too?"
Lily nodded.
"She says Brad is going to be my new daddy."
My daughter began rubbing the cuff of my sleeve.
"But I told her I already had one."
My eyes burned.
That was why they had punished her.
Not because she was loud.
Not because she interrupted the party.
Because she refused to replace me.
Dr. Bennett ended the interview soon afterward.
Outside the room, she spoke quietly.
"Your daughter appears frightened of both adults."
I nodded.
"I want emergency custody."
"I would recommend that she not return to that environment until there's a formal evaluation."
I called the military legal assistance office.
Then I called a civilian family attorney recommended by one of my commanders.
Her name was Katherine Sloan.
I explained what happened.
She listened without interrupting.
Then she asked one question.
"Whose name is on the deed to the house?"
"Mine."
There was a short pause.
"Whose name is on the primary bank account?"
"Mine."
Another pause.
"And your wife told people you were dead?"
"Apparently."
Katherine's voice changed.
"Captain Walker, don't go home alone."
May you like
"Why?"
"Because if she was willing to manufacture your death socially, we need to know what else she did while everyone believed you were gone."
