Chapter 8 - LYDIA HAD NEVER PLANNED TO GIVE NORA BACK
Grant thought he hired Lydia to stage a cruel prank.
Lydia had another plan from the beginning.
Police searched her old storage unit.
Inside was a notebook dated six weeks before Nora disappeared.
Pages about Cora.
Then Nora.
The first entry mentioning my daughter:
Saw her today. Same shoulders. Same stubborn chin. Not Cora, but for one second I forgot.
Another:
Her mother keeps touching her hair. She doesn’t appreciate what she has.
I had to stop reading.
Detective Brooks continued without me.
Later she summarized.
Lydia followed us twice during that vacation.
Watched Nora walk to the boardwalk.
Learned our rental address.
Then Grant contacted her looking for help frightening Michael.
Lydia saw opportunity.
The kidnapping was planned to look temporary to Grant.
Not to Lydia.
She already had fake identity templates from Harbor Youth Outreach.
Her sister Helena helped create psychological records after the fact.
Grant’s money funded the first months.
Then Lydia sold Cora’s inherited college account to support herself and Nora.
Every stage was prepared more carefully than any impulsive act.
That knowledge hurt.
But it also gave Nora something important.
Proof.
Lydia had spent years telling Nora:
You chose to stay.
You wanted a different life.
You were troubled before I found you.
Now there were notebooks showing that none of it had been accidental.
Nora read only what Dr. Lee believed was safe.
Then she met Michael for the second time.
He sat on the far side of the room.
“I’m sorry,” Nora whispered.
He started crying.
“For what?”
“For believing the paper.”
“The guardianship?”
She nodded.
Michael shook his head.
“You were sixteen.”
“But I should’ve known your signature.”
“No.”
His voice broke.
“You should have had adults who didn’t forge it.”
That mattered.
Then Nora asked:
“Do you hate Grant?”
Michael thought.
“Yes.”
Honest.
“Will you hurt him?”
“No.”
Also honest.
“Why?”
“Because what I want emotionally and what the law should do are different things.”
I looked at my husband.
Eight years had changed him too.
Then Nora said:
“I don’t want to see him.”
“You never have to.”
“No family meeting?”
“No.”
“No forgiveness thing?”
Michael almost laughed.
“Absolutely not.”
Nora smiled slightly.
Progress.
Then Detective Brooks called.
Lydia had been found.
Not arrested yet.
Located.
She was staying at a small inn forty miles inland.
Police approached.
She surrendered without resistance.
Inside her room they found one suitcase.
Cash.
Medication.
And a box of photographs.
Mostly Nora.
But beneath them was something else.
Letters.
Dozens.
All addressed to me.
Written in Nora’s handwriting over eight years.
May you like
Lydia had told Nora she mailed them.
She had never sent a single one.
Related Stories
