Chapter 9 - The Little Girl Who Knew Ren
They did not go directly to Ren’s preschool.
Gideon refused.
Too predictable.
Instead Marcus took Evelyn, Hannah, and Sophie to an apartment owned by Dana under another name.
Silas vanished with Peter, supposedly to “prepare.”
Gideon trusted that about as much as he trusted a snake not to bite because it had eaten recently.
At 2:15 a.m., Gideon sat in Dana’s kitchen across from Sophie.
The storm had weakened.
Snow rested against the windows.
Hannah slept in the next room after refusing to sleep for almost an hour.
Evelyn was calling an attorney.
Marcus monitored police channels.
Sophie ate toast with strawberry jam.
Gideon watched her.
“You should sleep.”
“So should you.”
He almost smiled.
“That’s fair.”
She took another bite.
“Mr. Gideon?”
“Yes?”
“Was Ren nice?”
The question caught him.
“Yes.”
“Did she like soup?”
“Tomato.”
“I like chicken.”
“I noticed.”
Sophie studied him.
“Did she cry a lot?”
“Sometimes.”
“Were you mad when she cried?”
“No.”
“My daddy used to get mad.”
Gideon’s expression changed.
“Where is your father?”
Sophie looked down.
“Gone.”
Hannah had not mentioned a father.
Gideon did not press.
Sophie continued.
“Mommy says Ren was brave.”
Gideon stared.
“When did your mother tell you about Ren?”
“Lots.”
“Why?”
“She said Ren helped us.”
“How?”
Sophie looked confused.
Gideon leaned forward.
“Earlier you said your mother told you ‘happy flowers.’”
Sophie shook her head.
“No.”
He paused.
“Who told you?”
“Ren.”
Gideon’s heart stopped.
“What?”
Sophie casually licked jam from her thumb.
“Ren told me.”
Gideon stood so quickly the chair scraped.
Marcus looked in from the other room.
“What happened?”
Gideon raised one hand.
He crouched beside Sophie.
“Sophie, you never met Ren.”
“Yes I did.”
“No. Ren died a year ago.”
“I know.”
“Then how?”
Sophie looked toward the hallway.
“Mommy’s phone.”
Gideon stared.
“What was on the phone?”
“A video.”
He called Hannah immediately.
She appeared in the doorway seconds later, exhausted.
“What’s wrong?”
“Did Sophie see a video of Ren?”
Hannah froze.
That was answer enough.
“What video?”
Hannah sighed.
“I should have told you.”
“Yes.”
“She recorded it at the hospital.”
“Ren?”
“No. Me.”
Hannah sat down.
“After Ren regained consciousness, she was scared. I wanted to distract her. I asked about her necklace.”
Gideon touched the pendant.
“She told me about sunflowers. She said they were happy flowers because they followed the sun.”
His eyes closed.
“I recorded a few seconds because…”
Hannah struggled.
“Because she reminded me of Sophie.”
Gideon looked toward the child.
“I had shown Dr. Mercer pictures of my girls earlier that week. Ren saw one on my phone.”
Sophie listened quietly.
“Ren asked who she was. I told her Sophie was my baby.”
A tear ran down Hannah’s face.
“Ren said she wanted to tell Sophie something.”
Gideon could barely breathe.
“What?”
Hannah pulled out an old phone.
“I kept it.”
She opened a protected folder.
A video appeared.
Ren lay in a hospital bed.
Small.
Pale.
A bandage near her hairline.
Her eyes were open.
Alive.
Gideon gripped the table.
Ren looked toward the phone.
“Hi, Sophie.”
Her voice was weak.
Sophie moved closer.
She had clearly watched it before.
Ren continued.
“My name’s Ren. Your mommy says you like yellow.”
A tiny smile.
“I like yellow too.”
She lifted the sunflower necklace.
“These are happy flowers.”
Gideon covered his mouth.
“They follow the sun, so they always know where the light is.”
Ren coughed.
Hannah’s voice came from behind the camera.
“Okay, sweetheart. Rest.”
Ren shook her head.
“One more.”
She looked directly into the lens.
“If you’re scared, find the light.”
The video ended.
Nobody spoke.
Gideon walked away from the table.
He reached the living room before grief overtook him.
For one year he had imagined Ren unconscious.
Silent.
Now he had heard words she spoke without him.
He had learned she had comforted another child while dying.
He pressed both hands against the window.
Behind him, Sophie entered quietly.
She did not touch him.
She simply stood nearby.
After a while she said, “That’s why I knew the flowers.”
Gideon nodded.
“Mommy showed it when I was scared.”
“I understand.”
“Are you sad?”
“Yes.”
“Because you miss her?”
“Yes.”
Sophie thought.
“I think she missed you too.”
Gideon closed his eyes.
From the kitchen Hannah watched.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
Gideon turned.
“No.”
His voice was rough.
“Thank you for keeping it.”
Hannah nodded.
A phone rang.
Marcus answered.
His expression changed.
“What?”
He put the call on speaker.
Dana’s voice.
“We have a problem.”
Gideon immediately looked toward the bedroom where Ava was supposed to be sleeping.
“What?”
“She’s gone.”
Hannah went white.
“What do you mean gone?”
“Window opened. Fire escape.”
“No!”
Hannah ran toward the hallway.
Dana continued.
“She left a note.”
“What does it say?”
A pause.
“She went to Ren’s school.”
Gideon swore.
“Why?”
“Because she heard us talking about the evidence.”
Hannah grabbed her coat.
“She thinks she can get it first.”
Gideon was already moving.
Marcus stopped him.
“Police channels just changed.”
“So?”
“They got an anonymous tip.”
“About what?”
“That you’re heading toward St. Anne’s Preschool.”
Gideon stared.
Thomas Vane knew.
Marcus continued.
“Every unit in the district is moving there.”
Hannah whispered, “Ava is alone.”
Gideon looked toward Sophie.
The younger girl clutched Ren’s sunflower pendant.
He turned to Marcus.
“Get the car.”
Outside, distant sirens began to rise.
May you like
Ava Reed, nine years old, was walking toward a building filled with enough evidence to destroy half of Chicago.
And every corrupt man in the city knew it.
