Chapter 3 - The Morrison Girl
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At the hospital, they took Lily back immediately.
Two fingers were broken. Her hand needed stitches. The doctor said there might be nerve damage—they wouldn't know for sure for weeks.
I sat in the waiting room. The memory card burning a hole in my pocket.
The Morrison girl.
I pulled out my phone. Googled.
"Emily Morrison, 14, found dead at Crestwood Country Club"
The headline was from eight years ago. A local news site. The article was short.
"Emily Morrison, 14, was found unresponsive in the pool area of Crestwood Country Club early Sunday morning. Authorities are investigating the death as an accidental drowning. The Morrison family has declined to comment."
Accidental drowning.
But Eleanor had said "the same thing happened to the Morrison girl." Same as what? Same as whatever they were cleaning up now?
I kept reading. Found a follow-up article from a week later.
"Investigation into the death of Emily Morrison has been closed. The medical examiner ruled the cause of death as accidental. No foul play suspected."
No foul play.
But the Morrisons had hired a lawyer. Filed a wrongful death suit. Settled out of court for an undisclosed amount.
The Morrisons moved away six months later.
I stared at the screen. My mind racing.
Emily Morrison. 14 years old. Dead at the country club my in-laws owned.
And Eleanor had mentioned her like she was a problem to be solved. Like she was a mess to be cleaned up.
What had happened to Emily Morrison?
And what was on that card?
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Lily was discharged three hours later. Her hand was wrapped in bandages. She was groggy from the painkillers.
"Mommy?"
"Yeah, baby?"
"I'm tired."
"I know. We're going home."
"Can we go to Grandma's house?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because Grandma hurt you. And we're not going back there."
"Ever?"
"Ever."
She was quiet for a moment. Then: "Good."
I looked at her. Surprised.
"I don't like Grandma. She's mean. She always has been."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I thought... I thought maybe it was just me. Maybe I was bad."
"You're not bad. You're the best thing that ever happened to me."
"I love you, Mommy."
"I love you too, baby."
We drove home in silence.
But my mind was still racing.
The Morrison girl. The memory card. Eleanor's fear.
Something was very, very wrong.
And I was going to find out what.
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