Chapter 2: The Drawing on the Wall
The door wasn't locked anymore.
It swung open easily — and Richard wished it hadn't.
The room was small.
Dark.
No window.
No bed.
Just a thin blanket folded on the floor in the corner, a plastic cup, and a single crayon drawing taped to the wall.
Sophie had drawn a little girl sitting alone.
Underneath it, in uneven letters, she had written: *Daddy come home.*
Richard couldn't speak.
Sophie tugged his sleeve.
"That's where she puts me when I cry."
He turned slowly.
"How many times, Sophie?"
She held up her fingers.
She ran out before she finished counting.
Richard was still staring at the drawing when he heard heels clicking on the marble behind him.
"Richard." Vanessa's voice was smooth.
Unbothered.
"You're home early."
He didn't turn around.
"You locked her in here."
"She was misbehaving.
Children need boundaries — you know that."
He finally turned.
His face was completely calm.
That was the part that made Vanessa take one small step back.
"She ate from the dog's bowl, Vanessa."
"She was being dramatic."
"She hadn't eaten since yesterday morning."
Vanessa opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
"I want you out of this house tonight."
She smiled then — slow and certain.
"You can't do that.
You know exactly why."
Richard's jaw tightened.
Because she was right.
And she knew it.
---
What hold does Vanessa have over Richard — and what really happened inside that room?
The full truth is darker than you think.
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