Then I called her parents.
Her mother answered before the second ring.
“Jeffrey?”
“Diane, Kelly's here.”
A strangled sob came through the phone.
“What?”
“She's safe. I found her upstairs.”
“Oh, my God.”
I heard movement in the background.
Then her father shouting.
“Where? Where is she?”
I kept my voice steady.
“She's at my house. I need you both to stay calm when you arrive.”
Diane was crying.
“Is she hurt?”
“She says she isn't. We're going to make sure.”
“I'm coming.”
“I know. Please give her a little space when you get here.”
The call ended.
I looked up.
Kelly's eyes were filled with tears.
“They're angry.”
“Right now, they're frightened.”
She shook her head.
“They're always frightened.”
I didn't argue.
I had known the Bennett family for only several months.
Long enough to see that Diane and Tom loved their daughter deeply.
Also long enough to notice that love sometimes arrived with too many questions, too much supervision, and very little room for Kelly to make mistakes like any other adult.
I carefully climbed another step.
“May I come up?”
Kelly nodded.
I entered the attic, keeping enough distance to give her space.
The room had been renovated the previous year.
It wasn't an ordinary unfinished storage space. I'd insulated the roof, added proper lighting, arranged safe stairs and railings, and turned one corner into a quiet reading area for my daughter, Ava.
A thick cream rug covered the floor.
A low mattress rested beneath the window.
Bookshelves stood between exposed wooden beams.
And dozens of paper stars hung above the bed.
Kelly had helped Ava make those stars.
That was one reason she knew the attic existed.
I sat on a wooden chair several feet away.
“Do you remember how you got in?”
Kelly nodded.
“The side garage door.”
I remembered immediately.
I'd given her the temporary access code a few months earlier when she volunteered to water our plants while Ava and I visited my sister.
I'd forgotten to deactivate it.
Kelly looked embarrassed.
“I'm sorry. I know I should've called.”
I nodded.
“We'll talk about that. But first, what happened?”
She stared toward the window.
For a long time, she remained silent.
Then she whispered, “I was at the flower shop.”
I waited.
“There was a delivery truck outside. Somebody dropped a metal rack.”
Her fingers tightened around the blanket.
“The sound was so loud.”