Chapter 3: The Little Notebook
Julian had negotiated million-dollar contracts without blinking.
He had faced angry shareholders, ruthless competitors, and business partners who tried to destroy his company.
But nothing had prepared him for the notebook in his daughter's hands.
Poppy sat quietly beside him.
Her little finger traced the words on the second page.
“Don't ask for snacks before dinner.””
Julian swallowed.
“Who told you that?””
“Celeste.””
He turned the page.
“Don't touch the piano.””
Another page.
“Don't call Daddy when he's working.””
Another.
“Don't cry when guests are here.””
Julian stopped reading.
His daughter looked up.
“Am I bad, Daddy?””
He immediately closed the notebook.
“No.””
“But I make Celeste angry.””
“That's not your fault.””
“She says I make her life difficult.””
Julian pulled her closer.
“Listen to me, Poppy. You are not responsible for making grown-ups happy. You are not responsible for their tempers. And you never have to earn the right to be loved.””
Poppy studied his face.
“Even when I spill things?””
“Even then.””
“Even when I break something?””
“Even then.””
“Even when I cry?””
Julian kissed her forehead.
“Especially then.””
She rested her head against his chest.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Poppy whispered something else.
“Daddy?””
“Yes, baby?””
“Can I tell you a secret?””
“Anything.””
She glanced at Marta.
The housekeeper nodded gently.
Poppy leaned closer.
“Sometimes Celeste locks the pantry.””
Julian went completely still.
“Why?””
“So I don't take cookies.””
“Does she lock it all the time?””
Poppy nodded.
“Sometimes she says I have to wait until you come home.””
Julian looked at Marta.
The housekeeper lowered her eyes.
“Sir, I didn't know about the pantry. I only found out about the bowl today.””
“Have you noticed anything else?””
Marta hesitated.
“Miss Poppy has become very quiet. She used to sing in the kitchen. She hasn't done that for weeks.””
Julian looked back at his daughter.
“Why don't you sing anymore, sweetheart?””
Poppy shrugged.
“Celeste says my voice is annoying.””
The words landed like a physical blow.
Julian looked toward the door.
“Daniel.””
The security officer appeared immediately.
“Sir?””
“I want every camera recording from this house for the last three months. Common areas, entrances, kitchen, and hallways. Everything we're authorized to access.””
Daniel nodded.
“Understood.””
“Also, contact our family lawyer. I want an independent investigation into everything that has happened while I was away.””
Celeste's voice suddenly came from the hallway.
“Are you seriously investigating me?””
Julian turned.
She stood at the doorway wearing a silk robe, her arms crossed.
“I'm standing right here,” she continued.
“You can ask me anything.””
Julian stood between her and the bed.
“I already did.””
“You're letting a six-year-old manipulate you.””
Poppy immediately lowered her head.
Julian noticed.
“Don't.””
Celeste frowned.
“Don't what?””
“Don't make her feel guilty for telling me the truth.””
Celeste stepped into the room.
“I've done everything for this family. I manage the house. I organize your events. I keep your life running while you're away.””
Julian looked at the little notebook.
“Did you write those rules?””
Celeste glanced at it.
“Children need structure.””
“Did you lock the pantry?””
“She was eating sweets before meals.””
“Did you stop her from calling me?””
“I never stopped her from calling you.””
Poppy's tiny voice interrupted.
“Yes, you did.””
Celeste's eyes flashed.
“Poppy, don't interrupt adults.””
Julian turned immediately.
“She can speak.””
Poppy's fingers curled into the blanket.
“You said Daddy was busy. You said he didn't want to hear me cry.””
The room went silent.
Celeste stared at the child.
“I never said that.””
Poppy looked at her father.
“You did. You said Daddy had important things to do and I shouldn't bother him.””
Julian felt something inside him crack.
He had spent so many evenings believing his daughter was sleeping peacefully while he worked late.
He had missed school performances.
He had missed bedtime stories.
He had missed the small moments that made up her childhood.
And Celeste had used every one of those absences against her.
Julian turned to Daniel.
“Take her downstairs.””
Celeste stepped forward.
“You can't just remove me from my own bedroom!””
Julian looked at her coldly.
“It's my house. And right now, my priority is making sure my daughter feels safe.””
Daniel guided Celeste toward the hallway.
She pulled her arm away.
“Don't touch me!””
“Mrs. Whitmore,” Daniel said calmly, “please come with me.””
Celeste turned toward Julian.
“You'll regret humiliating me.””
He didn't answer.
The door closed.
Poppy slowly reached for his hand.
“Daddy?””
“I'm here.””
“Is Celeste angry?””
Julian gently squeezed her fingers.
“She can be angry. But she cannot hurt you.””
Poppy thought about that.
Then she asked:
“Will you go to work tomorrow?””
Julian looked at the little girl sitting in front of him.
He thought about his calendar.
His meetings.
The contracts waiting on his desk.
Then he picked up his phone and sent one message to his assistant.
*Cancel my travel schedule for the next two weeks. Family emergency.*
He put the phone away.
“Tomorrow, I'm taking you to school.””
Poppy's eyes widened.
“Really?””
“And I'll pick you up.””
“Both?””
“Both.””
She smiled for the first time that evening.
But just as Julian leaned down to kiss her forehead, Daniel knocked.
“Sir, I need to speak with you.””
Julian stepped into the hallway.
Daniel held a tablet.
“We reviewed the first batch of recordings.””
“And?””
Daniel hesitated.
“There's something you should see.””
He turned the screen toward Julian.
The footage showed Celeste entering Poppy's bedroom three nights earlier.
She was carrying the little purple notebook.
Julian watched her open it.
Then she removed several pages.
She looked around the room before slipping them into her handbag.
Daniel paused the video.
“Sir, there's more.””
He opened another recording.
This time, Celeste was standing in the kitchen with someone Julian recognized.
His own mother.
Evelyn Whitmore.
Julian stared at the screen.
His mother leaned closer to Celeste and said something that made his stomach tighten.
“Make sure the child never tells Julian what happened before the wedding.””
Julian looked at Daniel.
“What happened before the wedding?””
Daniel shook his head.
“We haven't found the full recording yet.””
From inside the bedroom, Poppy suddenly called out.
“Daddy?””
Julian turned.
She was standing in the doorway, clutching her purple notebook.
Her eyes were wide with fear.
“That's not the worst thing Celeste did.””
Julian walked toward her.
“What do you mean, sweetheart?””
Poppy opened the notebook to a page near the back.
There was a small photograph taped inside.
It showed her mother, Claire, smiling while holding Poppy as a baby.
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Beneath the photograph, someone had written a sentence in black ink.
*The reason Mommy never came home.*
