Chapter 5 - The Vanishing Teacher
The revelation that Mrs. Gable had fled sent shockwaves through the investigation. By sunrise, a local alert had been issued for her vehicle, and forensic investigators were combing through Chloe’s classroom at St. Jude’s Elementary.
Maya stayed by Chloe’s bedside all morning, watching the steady rise and fall of her daughter’s chest. The oxygen mask had been replaced with a gentle nasal cannula, and Chloe was finally resting deeply. Every time the door opened, Maya’s hand instinctively went to Chloe’s arm, ready to protect her from whatever threat might walk through.
At 10:00 AM, a gentle knock sounded at the door. It wasn't the police or the doctor. It was a young woman wearing a plain gray cardigan and carrying a small leather briefcase.
“Mrs. Vance? My name is Clara Higgins. I’m a child forensic interviewer with the county,” the woman said softly. “Detective Miller asked me to drop by. We want to see if Chloe feels comfortable talking to me in a safe, non-pressured environment.”
Maya looked at Chloe, who was just beginning to stir, her eyelids fluttering open. “She’s still weak, Miss Higgins. Her throat hurts.”
“I completely understand,” Clara said, pulling up a small stool next to the bed. “We won't make her talk if she doesn't want to. We use pictures, soft cards, and gentle gestures.”
Chloe blinked away the sleep, her eyes focusing on Clara. Clara gave her a warm, non-threatening smile, pulling a small set of emotion-cards from her bag—simple cartoon faces showing various feelings: happy, sad, angry, scared, and confused.
“Hi Chloe,” Clara said gently. “You’re very safe here. Your mommy is right next to you. I just want to play a quick game with these cards. Can you point to the card that shows how you felt when you were on the playground yesterday?”
Chloe looked at the cards. Slowly, her small hand reached out and touched the scared card.
“Thank you,” Clara said softly. “Now, Chloe, yesterday you drew a picture with three letters: M - R - S. Everyone thought you were writing 'Mrs.' like a teacher’s name. Is that right?”
Chloe immediately shook her head side to side, a look of sudden urgency filling her eyes.
Maya leaned forward, her heart pounding. “She’s shaking her head no...”
Clara remained calm, gently placing a blank sheet of paper and a thick marker in front of Chloe. “Chloe, if you weren't writing 'Mrs.', what were you trying to write? Can you finish the word for us?”
Chloe took the marker with both hands. Her knuckles were white. With slow, painstaking effort, she wrote the letters she had started the night before, then added three more letters directly after them:
M - R - S - . - V - A
Maya read the letters out loud, her brain trying to make sense of the sequence. “M... R... S... V... A... Mrs. Va—”
Maya stopped dead. The marker slipped from Chloe’s fingers and tumbled onto the bed sheets.
May you like
Mrs. Vance.
Chloe hadn't been trying to write the name of her teacher, Mrs. Gable. She had been trying to write the name of her stepmother—Julian’s new fiancé, Mrs. Vance-to-be, whose name was Marlene Ross Vance.
