Chapter 10 - THE CHILD'S DRAWING
I froze.
I reached down and picked up the paper.
It was one of Leo’s child's drawings. He drew them all the time.
But as I unfolded it, my blood ran cold.
It wasn’t a drawing of a dinosaur or a car.
It was a drawing of a tall man with a scar over his left eye, handing a small box to a little boy.
Beneath the drawing, in Leo’s clumsy handwriting, were the words: The nice man said to give this to Mommy.
My heart started pounding against my ribs.
“Leo,” I whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Baby, wake up for a second.”
Leo stirred, blinking sleepily. “Yeah, Mom?”
“Who is the man in this picture? When did you draw this?”
Leo rubbed his nose. “Today. When the babysitter was asleep. He knocked on the window.”
A man had been at my apartment today. Before Vanessa’s driver. Before Daniel.
“Did he give you a box, Leo?” I asked, my voice trembling.
Leo nodded. “Uh-huh. I put it in your work bag. So you wouldn’t lose it.”
I stood up so fast I knocked my knees against the nightstand.
I ran to the corner of the room where my canvas tote bag sat. I unzipped it and dug through my uniform apron, my hair ties, my wallet.
At the bottom of the bag was a small, velvet jewelry box.
It was old. The velvet was worn and faded.
I took a deep breath, my hands shaking violently, and popped the lid open.
Inside wasn’t a ring or a necklace.
It was a single, golden key.
And tucked beneath the key was a tiny, folded note.
May you like
I pulled it out and read the messy scrawl.
“They didn’t find everything in the piano. Use the key. Find the rest before Luca does.”
