Chapter 1 - THE NUMBER BEHIND THE PHONE
The fluorescent tube above the kitchen flickered every few seconds, turning the cramped apartment on Cedar Street alternately yellow and gray.
Chloe Matthews sat at the scarred table with thirteen-month-old Tyler strapped against her chest in a sling she had made from an old dish towel. Before her lay a plate of cold meatloaf coated in hardened gravy, mashed potatoes with a rubbery skin, and peas that smelled faintly sour.
Derek Patterson stood beside the refrigerator drinking beer.
“Eat.”
Chloe lifted the fork.
The meat felt greasy and cold against her tongue.
Tyler began crying again.
“Please,” Chloe whispered. “He needs his bottle.”
Derek drank slowly, watching her over the rim of the can.
“Your mother can feed him when she gets home.”
“She won’t be home until late.”
“Not my problem.”
Chloe looked at the kitchen clock.
Her mother, Rachel, was working another double shift at the diner. Twelve hours had already passed since she left wearing black shoes with worn soles and smelling faintly of vanilla lotion.
Derek had hidden Tyler’s formula after lunch.
He called it discipline.
Chloe called it something else inside her head, though she was too frightened to say the word aloud.
Cruel.
“Finish everything,” Derek said. “Then maybe I’ll think about the baby.”
Tyler’s cries weakened into hoarse little whimpers.
That frightened Chloe more than screaming.
She forced down another bite and nearly gagged.
Derek laughed.
“Princess doesn’t like leftovers?”
Chloe stared at the plate.
Two nights earlier Derek had called the same meatloaf disgusting and ordered pizza for himself.
Now he was making her eat it because, he said, children needed to understand what money cost.
Her eyes drifted toward the refrigerator.
Her mother had taped emergency numbers beside a faded magnet: police, poison control, pediatrician.
But there was another number.
A small strip of paper hidden behind the cordless phone.
Ten digits.
No name.
Chloe had found it months ago while cleaning.
When she asked Rachel about it, her mother had gone strangely pale.
“Just leave it there, baby.”
“Who is it?”
“Someone I might need one day.”
That was all.
Now Tyler’s small body trembled against her.
Chloe decided that day had arrived.
Derek opened the refrigerator and bent down looking for another beer.
Chloe slid from her chair.
One hand supported Tyler.
The other reached for the phone.
She dialed.
Once.
Twice.
Three rings.
A man answered.
“Hello?”
His voice was deep, calm, adult.
Everything Derek’s voice was not.
Chloe opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Then Tyler gave a weak cry.
The man’s tone changed immediately.
“Hello? Is someone there?”
Chloe closed her eyes.
A word escaped before she could stop it.
“Daddy?”
Silence.
She had never called anyone that before.
Her biological father had disappeared when she was a baby. Derek had once ordered her to call him Dad, but the word had stuck in her throat.
Now it came naturally to a stranger.
“Who is this?” the man asked softly. “Are you okay?”
Chloe looked over her shoulder.
Derek was still searching the refrigerator.
“My name is Chloe.”
“Okay, Chloe. Where are you?”
“My stepdad makes me eat his old food.”
The man’s breathing changed.
“And my baby brother is hungry. He hid the formula.”
“Chloe, listen carefully. What is your address?”
Her fingers tightened around the phone.
“Eight-forty-seven Cedar Street. Apartment three—”
Derek turned.
His eyes landed on the receiver.
Then on Chloe.
His face transformed.
“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?”
Tyler screamed.
Derek crossed the kitchen in three heavy steps.
Chloe backed against the refrigerator, phone pressed to her ear.
“Three-B!” she cried. “We’re in apartment three-B!”
Derek grabbed for the receiver.
May you like
And before he could tear it from her hand, the stranger on the other end said one thing Chloe would remember for the rest of her life:
“Chloe, I heard you. Stay near the baby. I’m calling 911—and I’m coming.”
