Chapter 1
The lighter clicked, and seven-year-old Nora Bell stopped breathing.
Vivienne held the orange flame inches from the child's wrist. Her platinum hair was perfectly smooth, her white satin robe immaculate, as though she had stepped into the marble bathroom for a photograph instead of a threat.
“Tell me what you said to your teacher.”
Nora shook her head. A tear slipped down her cheek and landed on the hand Vivienne had pinned against the vanity. Behind them, June, the housekeeper, stood in the doorway with one hand over her mouth.
“Please,” Nora whispered. “It was just a question.”
Vivienne moved the flame closer. Nora jerked back. Heat caught her skin before the lighter snapped shut. She cried out, and Vivienne's grip tightened.
“Children who make up stories get people in trouble.”
“Let her go,” June said. Her voice barely carried over the ventilation fan.
Vivienne looked over her shoulder. “You can leave whenever you want, June. You know what happens to people who can't keep a job.”
The bathroom door swung open hard enough to strike its stopper.
For months, Nora had learned to recognize the sound before she saw the flame. Vivienne would hold the lighter where the child's eyes could follow it, then click the wheel once or twice as if calling a pet. The sound had invaded ordinary places. At breakfast, Nora flinched when a spoon struck a glass. At school, she stopped using the pencil sharpener because its switch made a similar snap. Nobody had connected the small changes into a story. Nobody except Nora, who had begun keeping the dates in her blue notebook.
That afternoon she'd asked why her mother's seascape had disappeared from Hawthorn House. Vivienne had answered with a question of her own: who had put such ideas in Nora's head? Nora said the truth, which was that she'd remembered it herself. June had moved from the doorway to intervene, only to find the newly fitted lock separating her from the child. By the time she reached them, the lighter was open. That was the moment Daniel returned early from a canceled meeting.
Daniel Bell, still wearing his navy suit and silver tie, froze on the threshold. His daughter's face was wet. Vivienne had her by the wrist. A small red lighter slipped from Vivienne's fingers, struck the marble, and spun to a stop near the gold-framed shower.
For one second, nobody moved.
Then Vivienne ran toward him.
“Daniel, thank God. Nora's having another episode. She found a lighter, and I was trying to take it away.” She threw her arms around his neck. “She nearly hurt herself.”
Daniel looked past her. Nora stood with her shoulders hunched, cradling her wrist. June had not lowered her hand.
“Nora,” he said, “come here.”
Vivienne clung tighter. “Listen to me first.”
He stepped out of her embrace, crossed the tile, and knelt. Nora moved into him so fiercely that her little hands crushed the lapels of his jacket.
“Daddy, she said you'd send me away.”
He drew her close, wrapping his gray overcoat around her shoulders. There was a small angry mark near her wrist. It wasn't a terrible wound. That almost made what he was seeing worse. Someone had believed a little pain would be easy to deny.
“What happened?” he asked, softly enough for only Nora to hear.
Nora looked toward Vivienne. Her lower lip trembled.
“Can I tell you somewhere she can't hear?”
The question struck him harder than an accusation. He had been in meetings for eleven hours. He had believed every cheerful message his wife sent about their peaceful home.
Vivienne approached. “You know how imaginative she is.”
Daniel rose, keeping Nora behind him. “Don't come closer.”
“You're choosing a child's lie over your wife?”
“I'm choosing to get her checked.”
Vivienne reached for his arm. He pulled away. When she tried to push past him toward Nora, he reacted without thinking. His open hand struck her cheek.
The sound cracked through the bathroom.
Vivienne staggered against the vanity and fell sideways onto the floor. The moment stretched, ugly and irreversible. Daniel stared at his own hand. He had frightened his daughter while trying to defend her.
He backed away. “June, take Nora into the hall.”
June approached slowly, letting Nora decide whether to go. Nora kept one hand in her father's until the last possible second.
Daniel took out his phone. He called emergency services, reported the possible injury to his child, and told the dispatcher plainly that he had hit his wife. He did not ask June to change what she had seen.
Vivienne sat up, pressing a hand to her cheek. “You have just ruined this family.”
Daniel looked at the red lighter on the floor. Its silver lid carried a tiny engraved lighthouse, a design he recognized but couldn't yet place.
May you like
From the hallway, Nora asked a question that stopped his heart.
“Daddy, will they find the other times?”
