Chapter 2 - The Child Who Remembered EverythingAgent Morris arrived at my house two hours later.

She came alone.

No uniform.

No flashing lights.

Just a dark coat and a serious expression.

Mia hid behind me when the door opened.

Agent Morris crouched.

"Hi, Mia."

Mia didn't respond.

"You don't have to talk."

Mia slowly stepped forward.

Agent Morris smiled.

"I heard you're very good at drawing."

Mia looked at me.

I nodded.

She opened her notebook.

Agent Morris sat at the kitchen table.

For nearly an hour, they communicated through drawings.

Mia drew the warehouse.

The storage unit.

My parents.

Caleb.

Then she drew a black car.

Agent Morris leaned forward.

"Who is this?"

Mia pointed at my father.

Then she drew another man.

Tall.

Gray suit.

A scar on his hand.

Agent Morris's expression changed.

"Do you know his name?"

Mia shook her head.

"Where did you see him?"

Mia drew a house.

Then a basement.

Then a red door.

Agent Morris looked at me.

"Do your parents have a basement?"

"Yes."

"Is there a red door?"

I nodded.

"Yes."

Mia grabbed my hand.

She drew a clock.

Then the number three.

Then a flame.

Agent Morris understood.

"Three o'clock."

Mia nodded.

"Fire?"

Mia nodded again.

Agent Morris looked at me.

"Your brother's fire started at 3:12 a.m."

I felt sick.

Mia remembered.

But how?

She had been seven.

Agent Morris asked gently:

"Mia, did you see your father at the warehouse that night?"

Mia froze.

Her breathing changed.

I immediately moved closer.

"It's okay."

Agent Morris stopped.

"We don't need to ask."

Mia looked at me.

Then she slowly wrote:

I SAW GRANDPA.

My hands went cold.

"Your grandfather?"

She nodded.

Then she wrote:

HE SAID DAD WAS BAD.

Agent Morris read it.

"What happened to Caleb?"

Mia stared at the page.

Her pencil shook.

She drew a man lying on the floor.

Then another person standing above him.

She drew fire.

Then she drew herself hiding behind a door.

I felt tears fill my eyes.

She had witnessed something.

Something no one had ever known.

Agent Morris took a breath.

"Where were you?"

Mia pointed toward herself.

Then the warehouse.

Then the office.

She drew a small window.

I remembered the final page of her notebook.

Caleb on the floor.

My father near the door.

I whispered:

"My father was there."

Mia nodded.

Agent Morris didn't respond.

Instead, she asked:

"Did your father hurt Caleb?"

Mia shook her head.

Then she drew a third figure.

The man with the scar.

She wrote:

NOT GRANDPA.

Agent Morris leaned back.

"Then who?"

Mia pointed toward the basement drawing.

Then she wrote:

MOM KNOWS.

I stared at the words.

My mother.

She knew.

I suddenly remembered the custody statement.

She had written that Mia couldn't remember dates.

That she became agitated around investigators.

That she had been born silent.

My mother hadn't simply lied.

She had built a story around Mia that made people stop asking questions.

Agent Morris looked at me.

"Your mother may have known Mia witnessed something."

"Then why leave her with me?"

"Because your parents are going on a cruise."

"That doesn't answer the question."

Agent Morris hesitated.

"Maybe they wanted distance."

"From what?"

"From Mia."

I looked at the little girl sitting beside me.

Mia was drawing again.

A cruise ship.

A clock.

A man falling.

Then a black X over the ship.

I frowned.

"Mia?"

She looked up.

She pointed at the cruise itinerary.

Then at the X.

"Do you think they aren't coming back?"

She nodded.

Agent Morris became very still.

"Why?"

Mia opened her notebook.

She wrote:

THEY SAID THE SHIP WOULD TAKE THEM AWAY BEFORE POLICE CAME.

I stared at her.

My father and mother weren't taking a vacation.

They were escaping.

Agent Morris immediately stood.

"I need to make a call."

She stepped outside.

Mia stayed beside me.

I looked at her.

"You knew."

She lowered her eyes.

"You knew they were leaving."

She nodded.

I hugged her.

"It's okay."

She pressed her face against my shoulder.

For the first time, she let herself cry.

No sound came out.

Just tears.

And as I held her, my phone buzzed.

A message from my mother.

Don't believe everything Mia shows you.

A second message arrived.

Your brother was not innocent.

Then a third.

If you want to keep Mia safe, stop asking questions.

I stared at the screen.

Then looked at the child in my arms.

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Someone was terrified.

But it wasn't Mia.