Page 63 of Stone Rules

“When I got to the daycare center, they told me Cara hadn’t brought her in that morning. They just assumed Cat was sick, or that it was another one of those days where I had a light schedule so I kept her with me all day. But I thought it strange that Cara wouldn’t call me. She always called me when Cat was sick. It was much easier for me to miss school than for her to miss work.

“I knew something was wrong,” he says. “I felt it. I ran out to my car, calling Cara on my way. When she answered, I breathed a sigh of relief. She sounded normal. Happy even. I’d never been so elated to hear her voice.”

His hand starts to sweat in mine and he grips me tighter. He squeezes me so hard it hurts. But I let him. Because I know what he’s about to tell me will hurt him far worse than he’s hurting me.

“I asked her why Cat wasn’t at daycare. Was she sick? Did she drop her at her mother’s? Why didn’t she call me? But the whole time I questioned her, she was silent. Then, just when I thought I’d lost the phone connection, I heard her scream into the phone, just before it went dead.

“I tried to call her back. I called her a hundred times as I raced through traffic to get to where she worked. But it was rush hour, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get to her fast enough.”

My heart is racing along with his. I know how hard his is beating because our hands are bound so tightly together, I can feel the throbbing in his wrist.

“By the time I got to the store, there were fire trucks and police cars everywhere. I tried to barge through the gathering crowd, but I was held back. I worked my way around to one side and spotted Cara on her knees, crying and screaming, blood coating her knees from the rocks in the pavement. Two firemen were holding onto her as she collapsed down onto her hands.

“Then I looked in the direction of the ambulance, over to the place Cara was reaching out to. Through the spectators and the flashing lights, I catch a glimpse of my daughter’s small, pale, lifeless body on a gurney next to Cara’s car.”

“Oh my God,” I cry out in horror, tears flowing from my eyes at his unbelievable, heart-wrenching words.

“I busted through the police barricade and ran over to the ambulance to see paramedics standing beside her body. They weren’t doing anything. They weren’t pounding on her chest or breathing in her mouth. They weren’t hooking her up to an IV. They were all just standing there. Crying.

“I yelled at them to do something. To help my baby. A couple of the firemen came over, flanking my sides. One of them told me there wasn’t anything they could do. She was gone. She’d been gone for some time because the heat in the car was just too much for her and she’d been in there for far too long.”

That’s the moment I realize what he’s telling me. And suddenly everything I’ve ever been through pales in comparison to this man’s pain. I always knew there were people worse off than Piper and me. I’d just never met any of them. Until now.

“They couldn’t keep me from her,” he says, his voice cracking in desperation. “I climbed over everyone in my way to get to her. I had to see her. Hold her once more. And they let me. They let me hold her until the coroner arrived. They let me hold Cat’s frail little body and run my hands over her soft blonde curls for the last time.

“And after they took her away, there was another person I had to get to. I ran to her. I ran to Cara. She was broken, a shell of a girl being held onto by firemen twice her size. She saw me coming and held her arms out to me. I held mine out to her. But not to hug her. To kill her. To strangle the life right out of her because she’d taken the most important thing in my life away from me. And I hated her more than I’d ever hated any human being.

“The firemen pulled me off her before I could do any real damage. And we were both taken to the police station for questioning. But Cara was never charged with her death. It was concluded that it was an accident. That Cara had a lot on her mind that day because she was interviewing for a higher management position. That she’d simply forgotten to take our daughter to daycare.”

He shakes his head and repeats, “Just forgotten to take her. How does that happen? How does a mother forget about her child?”

Then he turns to me, looking guilty. “Oh, Charlie. I’m sorry I said that.”

“No, don’t be. This isn’t about me, Ethan.”

“But it is,” he says. “Your quest to find these men and hurt them the way they hurt you is understandable. But you have so much pain, so much hate within you that it’s eating you alive.”

“Don’t you?” I ask. “You just told me you hated Cara more than you ever hated anyone.”

“I did. And she had to get a restraining order against me. And I ended up in court-mandated therapy for PTSD. It was there that I learned about forgiveness.”

“Forgiveness?” I ask. “How could you forgive her for that, Ethan?” I look deep into his eyes and see what he’s getting at. “Uh . . . no. I know you aren’t suggesting I forgive those bastards. I couldneverforget what they’ve done to me.”

“Forgiving and forgetting are two different things, Charlie. Of course you’ll never forget what happened. And I’m not saying you should show up on their doorstep with a plate of cookies or anything. I’m saying that before you can heal, you have to let go of the hatred. You don’t forgive people forthem, Charlie. You forgive people foryou. Forgiveness is a gift you give yourself. With it comes peace and a renewed sense of freedom.”

I sneer at him. “Youhave peace and freedom?”

“Yes.”

“You could have fooled me,” I say, looking down at our hands that are still folded together.

“I never said forgiveness would make a person perfect.I’mnot perfect. I’m scared, Charlie. I loved that little girl more than my own life. I never thought it possible to feel that kind of love for another person. I’d seen it on TV. Read about it in books. But I thought it was all fantasy. Something made up by Hallmark so they could sell more cards. But the very first time I saw Cat, I knew it was real. I understood in a matter of two seconds, how one could love another so fiercely that they would give their own life for them.”

He turns towards me, situating us so we are facing each other and not his daughter’s grave. “It took me two seconds to feel that with her,” he says. “With you, it was more like two weeks.”

My mouth falls open at his words that I’m sure I heard incorrectly. I can’t speak. I can’t move. I can’t even breathe.

“I swear to God, Charlie. It was like a punch in the gut when I met you. When I saw you that first time, something inside me shifted. And when you ripped your shirt off, I knew I must be dreaming. I tried to fight it. I tried to fight it every time I saw you. I tried to fight it every moment we were apart. I knew I couldn’t fall for you. I couldn’t risk loving someone again and then having them taken from me. But these past three weeks have been hell. Youweretaken from me. But by no one’s fault but my own.Ipushed you away. And the pain is excruciating. Knowing you are out there and I’m not with you is torture. I know I have no right to ask for another chance. I know I don’t deserve another chance, but I’m asking anyway. Because if I don’t, I’ll never forgive myself.”

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