Chương 2 - THE GIRL IN THE YELLOW BOOTS
Megan spent the drive home telling herself coincidence was a real thing.
Children heard names.
People misunderstood sounds.
Avery had probably heard one biker say Gabe before Megan noticed.
Maybe somebody had said Lily.
Maybe yellow boots meant nothing.
Reasonable explanations existed.
Megan believed that until Avery drew the picture.
After dinner, the child sat at the kitchen table.
Pink princess costume replaced by dinosaur pajamas.
Crayons everywhere.
Megan washed dishes.
“What are you drawing?”
“Lily.”
Her hands stopped.
“Avery.”
“What?”
“Do you know someone at school named Lily?”
“No.”
“Have you seen her picture somewhere?”
Avery shook her head.
“Where did you meet her?”
“Swing.”
“At preschool?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“A lot.”
Megan turned.
“Avery, I know the children in your class.”
“She isn’t in my class.”
“Then whose class?”
“No class.”
The answer irritated her.
Not because Avery was lying.
Because she sounded completely certain.
“Show me.”
Avery pushed the paper forward.
Stick figure.
Brown hair.
Yellow dress.
Bright yellow boots.
A blue butterfly drawn beside her.
Megan looked.
“Why the butterfly?”
“Lily likes blue.”
Her phone rang.
Unknown number.
Megan almost ignored it.
Then answered.
“Hello?”
A man.
“This is Cole Mercer.”
One of the bikers.
Gabe’s younger brother.
“He's out of surgery.”
Megan exhaled.
“Is he okay?”
“Broken ribs. Shoulder injury. Concussion. A few other things.”
“But alive.”
“Because you found him.”
“Avery found him.”
Silence.
“Yes.”
Cole continued:
“Gabe keeps asking about her.”
Megan’s stomach tightened.
“I don't think that’s a good idea.”
“I understand.”
That surprised her.
Then:
“He just wants to thank her when things settle.”
“Maybe.”
Another pause.
“Mrs. Collins?”
“Megan.”
“Megan.”
Cole hesitated.
“There’s something I think you should know.”
She looked toward Avery.
The child had started humming.
“What?”
“Lily always wore yellow rain boots.”
Megan went cold.
“Children wear yellow boots.”
“Yes.”
“Anything else?”
Cole’s voice softened.
“She was obsessed with blue butterflies.”
Megan sat down.
Across the table, Avery colored one wing.
“That proves nothing.”
“I know.”
Good answer.
Megan looked at her daughter.
“Why did Gabe say yellow boots?”
“Because he misses her.”
Megan covered the phone.
“Avery, please stop listening.”
“I’m not.”
“You clearly are.”
“No. Lily is talking.”
Megan closed her eyes.
Cole heard.
He did not ask more.
She appreciated that.
That night Megan searched Gabriel Mercer.
Forty-two.
Owner of Mercer Freight & Repair.
Former Army mechanic.
Founder of Iron Haven Riders, a veterans’ motorcycle organization.
Not an outlaw gang despite appearances.
They ran toy drives, roadside assistance, funeral escorts and charity rides.
Then she found Lily.
A news article from four years earlier.
Local Business Owner Creates Pediatric Family Fund After Daughter’s Death.
Photograph.
Gabe kneeling beside a hospital bed.
A little girl smiling.
Brown hair.
Yellow rain boots visible beneath the blanket.
And on the wall beside her—
blue butterflies.
Megan shut the laptop.
Hard.
From the hallway Avery said:
“That’s her.”
Megan jumped.
“You’re supposed to be asleep.”
Avery walked closer.
Looked at the frozen screen.
“Lily.”
Megan’s mouth went dry.
“Have you seen this picture before?”
“No.”
“Think carefully.”
“I did.”
Her heart stopped.
“Where?”
“Just now.”
Megan almost laughed from relief.
Then Avery pointed at Gabe.
“Daddy Bear.”
Megan stared.
“What?”
“That’s what Lily calls him.”
She reopened the article.
No nickname.
She searched again.
Nothing.
Then another result.
An old public video from Lily’s Promise Foundation.
Gabe speaking.
No Daddy Bear.
Megan called Cole back.
He answered immediately.
“What happened?”
She asked:
“Did Lily call her father Daddy Bear?”
Silence.
Long enough.
Then:
“Who told you that?”
Megan’s skin went cold.
“Nobody.”
Cole exhaled shakily.
“Yes.”
“How public was it?”
“It wasn’t.”
Megan looked toward Avery.
The child had wandered back toward the hallway.
Cole continued:
“Lily started calling him that when she was two.”
“Anyone else know?”
“Family.”
“Friends?”
“Maybe.”
“So it isn’t impossible.”
“No.”
Megan needed him to agree.
“People know things.”
“Yes.”
“Kids overhear things.”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Then Cole added quietly:
“But Avery shouldn't know about the blue music box.”
Megan froze.
“What blue music box?”
Cole stopped.
“I didn't say—”
Megan turned.
Avery stood in the hallway.
She was whispering.
“Tell him Lily says he should give Daddy Bear the music box.”
Megan's knees almost gave out.
“Where is it?”
Avery tilted her head as though listening.
Then:
“Behind the drawer.”
Cole stopped breathing on the other end.
“What drawer?”
Avery answered before Megan asked.
May you like
“Daddy Bear’s desk.”
---
