Vanessa laughed. “You’ve been gone for months. You don’t make the rules anymore.”
Daniel carried Sophie inside, ignoring the click of heels behind him. Her bedroom was bare—no toys, no color. A cell.
“Dad, I’m scared.”
“I’m here,” he promised, though doubt gnawed at him.
As he cleaned the cuts on her hands, Sophie told him everything. Trusted staff fired. Phone lines cut. Hunger used as punishment.
That night, Daniel discovered his accounts locked, files gone. By morning, the truth hit harder: his assets frozen.
His phone rang. Rachel Morgan, his former lawyer.
“Daniel, leave now. Vanessa and her brother Mark Lewis filed claims saying you’re unstable. She’s seeking custody and control of everything.”
The TV confirmed it—his exhausted photo under a headline questioning his sanity. Vanessa appeared onscreen, playing the grieving wife.
“I warned you,” she said behind him later. “No one believes a madman.”
“Where’s my daughter?”
“In her room. Social services are coming. Take her and you’re a criminal. Stay and you’re done.”
Fear vanished. Resolve replaced it.
Daniel packed quickly. With Sophie, he slipped out through the service stairs. Maria pressed cash into his hand, tears streaming.