GRACE, AGE 7
Gracie sat at the kitchen table with her Little Mermaid coloring book open to a page with Ariel, Flounder, and Sebastian exploring sea rocks. Perplexed, she pointed at shapes on the page. “Mommy, what are these things?” Her mother went on peeling potatoes in the sink, her glance lifting to look out the window. Daddy would be home soon. Gracie needed to finish her picture quickly. If she did a good job, Daddy might smile. “Mommy?”
“Oh, Gracie. What did you say?” Her mother rinsed her hands and dried them with a small towel. She glanced out the window again before looking over Gracie’s shoulder. “Those are sea anemones.” She tapped the picture. “That’s a spiny sea urchin. This is coral, and that’s seaweed.” She looked out the window again. Mommy’s expression made Gracie’s stomach tighten. Would Daddy come home mad again?
“What color should they be?”
“I don’t know, sweetie.” Mommy bit her lip and looked away again, distracted. “Can’t you remember what they looked like in the movie?” A car door slammed out front, and Mommy’s body gave a slight jerk. She stepped to the sink and looked out the window. Her breath came out. “Time to play hide-and-seek, Gracie.”
“But I haven’t finished—”
“Now!” Grabbing her arm, Mommy yanked Gracie off the chair and hauled her quickly to the front hall. “Daddy’s not feeling well again.” Leaning down, she spoke in a hushed voice, her eyes wild and darting to the front door. “Find your best hiding place and stay still and quiet as a little mouse until Mommy comes and finds you. Go on now.” The look on her mother’s face frightened Gracie so much she started to cry. Mommy hushed her. “Go! Hurry!”
Gracie fled down the hall just as Daddy opened the front door. Daddy’s voice rumbled like a gathering storm. “Where were you this afternoon?”
Gracie looked frantically for a place to hide.
“I was here.” Mommy’s voice was high, frightened.
“Liar!” Gracie heard another noise and Mommy’s sharp cry of pain. Daddy’s voice darkened. “I called, Leanne. Twice! You didn’t answer. Who were you with?”
Gracie slid open the mirrored door of Mommy’s closet and ducked inside. She closed the door quietly, climbed over some pairs of shoes, and crouched in the back corner. She hugged her knees against her chest and made herself as small as she could.
Daddy kept shouting and Mommy talked fast, pleading for him to listen. “I went grocery shopping, Brad. I worked in the back garden. I picked up Gracie at school. I was on the phone with—”
Daddy shouted, “Shut up!” Glass shattered. Mommy cried out. Gracie heard a loud thump and covered her ears.
After a moment, she lowered her hands, panting softly, heart pounding. Daddy was talking now, storm over, his voice so different from anything Gracie had heard before. Was he crying? He said something low and broken. “Leanne, honey, I’m sorry. Leanne . . . What have I done?”
Gracie could hear Daddy moving around, pacing, sobbing. “What am I going to do? What am I going to do?” When he started down the hall, Gracie froze in terror. She could barely breathe. He came into the bedroom where he and Mommy slept together. She heard dresser drawers opening, banging. Daddy made a moaning sound. “Where did you hide it, Leanne? Where is it?” Gracie pressed back hard against the closet wall.
The mirrored door banged open. Daddy’s black office shoes and gray slacks appeared. He took a box from the shelf and tossed it over his shoulder, then another. He let out a relieved breath and took something from a shiny wooden box. Metal slid against metal with a sharp snap, and her bladder emptied. She felt the warmth spread in her panties and onto the rug beneath her. A frightened whimper escaped, and Daddy froze. Gracie pressed back so hard, her bones hurt. Her father reached up and slid hangers along the pole until they were crushed together above Gracie’s head, revealing her hiding place.
His face twisted, his cheeks pale and wet. Daddy didn’t look like Daddy. He stared at her, his mouth moving as though he wanted to say something but couldn’t. He closed his eyes tightly and stepped back; then he dragged the hangers of clothes back into place so she was hidden again. When he lowered his arm, Gracie saw the gun in his hand. He was shaking. She heard the closet door close again. She waited, listening to his footsteps go down the hall toward the living room.
Gracie jumped at a loud bang from the living room.
The doorbell rang, and she opened her eyes, staring into the darkness. It rang a second, then a third time. Someone knocked hard on the front door and called out, “Memphis Police. Open the door.”
More voices outside, moving away from the house. Shouted orders.
Shivering, Gracie listened, but didn’t move. She waited for Mommy to come and find her. Why was she taking so long? Would she be upset because Gracie had wet her pants? Scrubbing away tears, Gracie covered her head.
Sirens sounded in the distance and came closer. She heard tires squeal. More shouts outside, silence inside. Something big hit the front door, and there was a crash. Footsteps entered quickly. Men talked in low voices. “Woman’s body in the kitchen. Man dead in the living room—.357 on the floor; looks like a suicide. Neighbor said there’s a little girl—Grace.”
Stay still and quiet as a little mouse, Mommy had said, and so Gracie did.
The closet door slid open, and a big man in black lace-up boots, baggy black pants with pockets, a thick vest with white letters, and a helmet pushed clothes aside. “Found her!” Flinching, Gracie pressed back again. Hunkering, the man smiled sadly. “It’s okay, Grace. You can come out now.” When she didn’t move, the man held out his hands, palms up. “Come to me. I won’t hurt you.”
The officer had a deep voice like Daddy’s.
When Gracie didn’t come, the man in black leaned in, slipped his big hands beneath her arms, and lifted her out. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She felt engulfed by his strength. “You’re safe, Grace. No one is going to hurt you.” He held her easily, his voice gentle. “I have a little girl about your age. Her name is Ellie.”
Another black-garbed officer stood behind him, but turned away, speaking into a radio mounted on his shoulder. Gracie’s body shook like the last leaf of autumn clinging to a broken branch.
“We’re taking you out of here, Grace. I want you to put your head on my shoulder and close your eyes tight.”
Gracie twisted in his arms. “I want Mommy. Where’s Mommy?”
The officer’s arm tightened beneath her, and she felt his hand cup the back of her head. “Close your eyes, honey. Just for a minute. Can you do that for me, Grace?”
“I want Mommy.” Her voice quavered and tears came.
The other officer took a pink parka with a hood from the closet. “Use this.”
“Good idea.” The officer set her down and put the jacket on her. The officer zipped the jacket all the way to the top and pulled the hood up over her head. When she tried to push it back so she could see, he brushed her hands away. “Leave it.” He lifted her again.
Carried down the hall in strong arms, Gracie felt the air change from warm to cold. When the police officer stepped down, Gracie knew she was outside the house. She peeked out from beneath the hood and saw police cars parked out front, red lights flashing. Two men pulled something on wheels out of a big white van. Mrs. Channing, the next-door neighbor, stood on the lawn, crying and hugging herself as she talked with another police officer.
Gracie struggled. “Mommy!” She couldn’t see her anywhere. Where was she? “Mommy!”
The officer lowered her to the ground. Hunkering in front of her, he held her by the arms. “You’re going to be okay.”
“I want my mommy.”