Chapter 1 - The Gate
My newborn daughter screamed from inside the locked kennel: "Mommy!"
When my father-in-law realized I had reached the gate, he stepped backward and whispered, "I don't remember."
My husband came running from the house and stared at the kennel.
Then he looked at his father.
"How did my daughter get in there?"
His father blinked.
"I said I don't remember."
For one terrible second, nobody moved.
I couldn't hear anything except my daughter's cries and the frantic barking of the two German Shepherds inside the enclosure.
My hands were shaking so badly that I nearly dropped the keys I had grabbed from the patio table. I had no idea how those keys had gotten there. I only knew that my daughter was inside that kennel, and every instinct in my body was screaming that I had to reach her.
"Get them away from her!" I shouted.
My husband, Daniel, moved first.
He threw open the outer latch while yelling for his mother to bring the dogs' leads. His father remained frozen beside the fence.
That was the first thing that frightened me.
Not the dogs.
Not even the locked gate.
Him.
My father-in-law, Richard, had always been difficult around our daughter. Before she was born, he had barely hidden his disappointment when Daniel told him we were having a girl.
"A granddaughter," he had muttered.
Then he had looked away.
When Daniel asked what was wrong, Richard had shrugged.
"I was hoping for a grandson."
Daniel had laughed nervously and told me not to take it personally.
"It's just Dad."
But I remembered the way Richard had stared at my ultrasound picture.
I remembered him saying, "Maybe next time."
I remembered pretending not to hear him.
Now my daughter was crying inside his dog kennel.
Daniel grabbed the larger dog by its collar while his mother, Margaret, rushed outside carrying the second leash.
"Open it!" Daniel yelled.
I opened the inner gate.
The dogs were pulled backward.
I reached for my daughter.
She was crying so hard she could barely catch her breath.
"Oh, sweetheart."
I lifted her against my chest.
She felt impossibly small.
Daniel immediately wrapped his arms around both of us.
"Call 911," he said.
Margaret was already dialing.
Richard still hadn't moved.
I looked at him.
He was staring at the kennel.
Not at his granddaughter.
At the kennel.
"Richard," I whispered.
His eyes finally met mine.
"What happened?"
His lips parted.
"I don't know."
"You were right here."
"I don't remember."
Daniel slowly turned toward him.
"What?"
Richard swallowed.
"I went inside. Then I heard screaming."
Daniel stared at him.
"You were sitting beside her."
"I don't remember."
The same sentence.
Again.
And again.
By the time the ambulance arrived, my daughter had stopped screaming.
That scared me more than anything.
The paramedics took her from my arms.
I followed them toward the ambulance, begging them to tell me she would be okay.
Daniel stayed behind.
I turned just before climbing inside.
He was standing face-to-face with his father.
Richard looked frightened now.
But not frightened for the baby.
Frightened of what Daniel might ask next.
At the hospital, doctors rushed my daughter into treatment.
I sat in a hallway with bloodless fingers clenched together while Daniel paced in front of me.
Neither of us spoke.
Finally, he stopped.
"My father did this."
I looked up.
"You don't know that."
Daniel's jaw tightened.
"No. But I know he lied."
Before I could answer, his phone rang.
It was his mother.
Daniel answered.
His expression changed.
"What did you say?"
He listened.
Then he slowly lowered the phone.
"Mom says Dad remembers something."
My heart stopped.
"What?"
Daniel looked at me.
"He says someone else put the baby in the kennel."
"Who?"
Daniel's phone rang again.
This time, it wasn't his mother.
It was the police.
And the officer on the other end asked him one question.
"Does your family have any security cameras?"
Daniel suddenly went pale.
May you like
Because he remembered exactly where one camera was pointed.
Straight at the kennel.
