And somehow, Charlotte would quiet down enough to leave with her.
On Monday, December 4, it was worse than ever.
“No, Daddy! Don’t make me go!” Charlotte sobbed hysterically.
Alex checked his watch. He had an executive meeting in 30 minutes.
“Vanessa, please…” he said helplessly.
“Go,” she replied calmly. “I’ll take care of her.”
He left with Charlotte’s cries echoing in his ears. By 11 a.m., sitting through a presentation, he couldn’t focus. A heavy feeling pressed on his chest.
He excused himself and called Charlotte’s preschool.
“This is Alex Bennett, Charlotte Bennett’s father. Is she in class today?”
A pause.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Bennett. Charlotte isn’t here.”
His heart skipped. “What do you mean? My wife took her this morning.”
“Mrs. Clark called earlier to report that Charlotte was sick.”
“Sick? At what time?”
“About 8:20 a.m.”
Alex had left at 8:40. Charlotte had been crying about going to school—not about being sick.
He ended the call and drove home immediately.
The house in Winnetka was silent when he entered. Vanessa’s car was still outside. He walked through the living room, the kitchen—empty. Then he heard a faint sound from downstairs.
The basement.