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Chapter 2

Author: Anonymous
"Take the remains back and confirm the victim's identity."

Dad's face stayed set in its usual grim lines. He was still dressed in the sharp suit he'd worn to Angeline's coming-of-age ceremony.

I'd once dreamed about my own ceremony, walking onto a stage with my hand tucked into the crook of his arm. In the dream, when he turned his face away, his expression twisted into something monstrous, and his hands clamped around my throat, choking the life out of me while he screamed.

"You're a murderer. Why are you even still alive?"

I'd woken from that nightmare in a cold sweat, already certain of one thing: Dad would never do anything for me. He wouldn't even give me a simple birthday.

That was because, his most beloved son had died in front of me on my birthday. Dad had held my brother's body with bloodshot eyes and hurled curses at me.

"Why did you have to go out for a cake? Why wasn't it you who died instead?"

I'd been too stunned to even open my mouth in my own defense.

Maybe it really was my fault. Why did I have to go out for a cake that day? If I hadn't, I never would have run into the trafficker at all.

I followed Dad back to the station. He pinched the bridge of his nose and dropped into the chair at his desk.

His colleague, Frank Carrey, watching him with concern, spoke up.

"What's wrong? Harper's still not home? It's normal for a girl her age to throw a tantrum now and then. And don't take this the wrong way, but yesterday was Harper's birthday too. You should've brought her along instead of only having Angeline there."

Hearing my name, I felt nervous. It was as though some final shred of hope still made me look expectantly at Dad.

"Let her throw her little tantrum, then. If she's got the nerve, she can stay gone for good. She doesn't deserve a birthday, and she sure as hell doesn't deserve a coming-of-age ceremony. Dennis died so young because of her."

He said it with real venom, slamming his service pistol down onto the desk as he spoke.

No. That wasn't it. I wasn't throwing a tantrum. I'd been taken.

"Don't work yourself up over it. None of us wanted what happened back then, and Harper's still young. This case we're on now is a big one. If the killer's some kind of psychopath, you need to find her and bring her home before something happens to her too."

Frank sighed deeply, the warning gentle but sincere.

Dad's brow furrowed, his patience clearly worn thin. "She has a mind of her own. She'll even lie and say she's been kidnapped. What could possibly happen to her?"

My heart sank. So that was it. All along, Dad had been convinced that phone call was just another attempt to compete for his attention.

In the end, it was only after Frank pressed him several times that Dad finally called me.

But I would never pick up again.

He made a token effort, two calls that both went unanswered, then sent me a voice message instead. His shout came through loud enough to be deafening.

"Harper, if you're not home by tonight, don't bother coming home ever again!"

I licked my cracked lips, the metallic taste of blood from right before I died still seeming to linger there, and managed a bitter little smile.

"Dad, I'm dead. I want to go home too."

But he would never hear my voice again.

Maybe that was for the best. He'd wanted me dead for a long time, after all. For once, I could finally let go of the burden in my heart.

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