Chapter 17 - IVY SAYS “THE DARK”Ivy began seeing a child therapist who specialized in very young children.

No interrogation.
Play.
Routine.
Observation.
One day she put a doll inside a toy cupboard.
Therapist asked:
“What is doll doing?”
Ivy:
“Quiet.”
“Why?”
“Dana says quiet.”
“Does doll like it?”
“No.”
Then:
“Dark.”
My stomach dropped when the therapist explained.
Could that prove Dana locked Ivy somewhere?
No.
Toddlers mix memory and play.
But combined with Julie Carson’s account of her son in a pantry, investigators paid attention.
We checked our house.
Laundry room.
Pantry.
Closets.
The nursery closet had an interior scrape near the handle height.
Meaning nothing by itself.
I wanted every mark to become evidence.
Detective Nguyen told me:
“Becca, if we decide the story first, every scratch becomes confirmation.”
May you like
I hated her.
Then apologized.
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