Chapter 12 - NOAH SPEAKSNoah started therapy.
The first drawing he made showed a house.
A cage.
Three stick figures.
Me.
Him.
And someone outside the kennel.
His therapist asked:
“Who is that?”
Noah whispered:
“Uncle Mark.”
I froze.
Mark hadn't appeared in the security footage until later.
Or so I thought.
We reviewed the video again.
Far background.
Reflection in the garage window.
A man.
Watching.
Mark.
He had seen Linda take Noah toward the kennel.
He did nothing.
Then disappeared.
Returned later with bolt cutters.
The hero.
Except he had allowed the crisis to happen first.
Why?
Because he needed me angry at Linda.
He needed me to start digging.
I confronted him.
He didn't deny it.
“I needed someone she couldn't control.”
“You used my son.”
“I didn't know she'd lock him inside.”
“You watched her.”
“I thought she'd scare him.”
I slapped him.
Hard.
He accepted it.
“You're all the same.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
I stepped closer.
“Every one of you thinks hurting someone is acceptable if your reason is good enough.”
May you like
Mark looked away.
For once, he had no answer.
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