Reflections

He killed my beautiful daughter. Her name was Eve and she will always be the love of my life. From the moment she was conceived I loved her with every part of myself. I was there when she said her first words and when she took her first steps. I got to be part of all of the grand moments in her short life. She was my everything.

Her mother left us when she was twelve. It was very hard time for my wife and I, and for Eve. Her tumultuous teen rebellion came along at the exact time her mother’s infidelity came to light. Her mother’s newly explored ideas of a different life without a husband came at the same time that Eve was going through the struggles of becoming a teenager. I tried to support Eve and show her love and attention but the scars of abandonment cut deep and I could not fill that void.

Eve was 14 when she met Henry although I didn’t know about him until it was far too late. He sought her out online posing as a younger version of himself. From the police investigation I discovered that he was 22 years old when it started. His social media account had him posing as a senior in a high school a few towns over. Eve was not a naive girl but she was vulnerable. I see that now. And so did he.

In the beginning their discussions were innocent. Eve wrote to him about her mother leaving. About her heartbreak. About her over-bearing father who kept asking her how she was. Henry was an empathetic ear. He encouraged her to talk about it and she did. It was clear to me reading these entries that she needed someone to just listen without advice. I wanted so desperately to fix things for her I didn’t see that she needed to process it herself. I should have found her a therapist, I should have found us a therapist.

Within a few weeks his empathetic messages took a turn and he started encouraging her anger. He started feeding her words of revenge. He gave her justification for any rebellion she showed and applauded the efforts she made to distance herself from her mother and myself. When I responded by grounding her, he would use that to further the distance between us. I was playing right into his hands. I did exactly what he wanted me to time and time again.

With every move I made to try to rein in her behavior in, he gained more control over her. I don’t know when they finally met in person. I have reviewed their messages more times than I can count and there is nothing. No evidence at all of when their relationship changed. No evidence to prove he took advantage of her or abused her beyond his obvious psychological manipulation. I know he did, though. I found out later.

Shortly after her 15th birthday she disappeared. I woke one morning and she was gone. I called all of her friends but found out they had not been spending time with her. I discovered that all the times I thought she was at the library or a friend’s house or at an afterschool program, she was with him. The friends were able to describe him and his car, but they didn’t know where we could find them. Eve had severed her ties with her friends and they had just moved on.

Months went by before my daughter was found. I had exhausted all avenues and was losing hope. I had put every ounce of energy into looking for her and came up empty. I was focused on Eve even as my own world crumbled.  I lost my desk job and took a job as a cabbie so I could drive the streets all night looking. I couldn’t think about anything but finding Eve.

The morning the police found her I was stuffing envelopes with flyers that held her information and picture. With each fold I was seeing my daughter’s beautiful face disappear over and over. I was moving and doing but I was a broken man. There was nothing in me, I was empty. 

When Detective McGill called me and told me they had located her I didn’t take notice of the strain in his voice. I was elated, I was going to bring my beautiful daughter home and everything was going to be okay. I didn’t know they had picked her up in a sting operation two states over while infiltrating a prostitution ring. That is how they found my devastated, drug addicted 15 year old child.

It took many months and a brilliant child psychologist, but we were slowly able to put the pieces together. Henry was in jail for drug possession during this time so we were assured that he would not make a run for it after what he had done. His incarceration gave us time to help her come to terms with what happened without her fearing for her safety. She was not his only victim but she was the youngest.

Eventually we learned that he first took advantage of my child when she was only 14 years old. They met at a mall where he bought her dinner and some trinkets and clothing. He invited her back to his house to watch a movie. She was immediately aware that he was older but she felt she knew him and she trusted him. At his house he offered her alcohol and encouraged her to try on her new clothes. She was flattered with his attention and did as he asked. They started watching the movie and she passed out. She woke later and felt disoriented and her body felt sore. He teased her about being a lightweight drinker and she was embarrassed.

The next time they met he offered her some speed so she wouldn’t pass out from drinking again. This time she was awake when they had sex although he called it making love. She believed him. She believed that he loved her and that she loved him. Every time I thought she was studying or at a friend's house they were together drinking and doing drugs that he offered.

The night she disappeared she had snuck out to meet him and his friends. She hadn’t met his friends before and she wanted to impress them. She didn’t understand what was happening at first. He kept encouraging her to be more friendly. He asked her to let his friends touch her hair. He asked her to show off the new bra that he bought her. He asked her to sit on his friend’s lap. When she tried to leave he held her back.

He used her newfound addiction to the drugs he provided to keep her pliable. He forced her to earn the drugs by first offering herself to his friends and then ultimately to strangers. She soon met other girls in the ring with similar stories and no way out. These other girls had also severed their relationships with family and friends for Henry or Joe or David. The men, and sometimes women, would prey on these vulnerable teens. They would gain their trust and manipulate them and then sell them. 

My girl, my beautiful and brave daughter, was going to stop them. She was fighting for her life daily going to therapy and the drug addiction treatment center. She was meeting with the police and telling them her story and the stories she knew from the other women. She was able to tell them when it started and how old she was. With her testimony she would be able to help put him away for statutory rape, prostitution, kidnapping, and the sale of illegal narcotics.

I was so proud of her. I was so proud of her strength and determination. She was working so hard to battle her demons and find strength and purpose. My wonderful girl was going to put that bastard away for life. She was going to stop him from hurting anyone else. She was so determined to bring him down that she lost her footing.

They say it is after an addict gets sober that they are most vulnerable to overdosing. I don’t think it was intentional. She was so strong and brave, but a moment of insecurity can destroy even the greatest warrior. 

I found her in the morning clinging to life. Her name was Eve and she was the love of my life. From the moment she was conceived I loved her with every part of myself. I was there when she said her first words and when she took her first steps and I was there when she took her last breath.

I am thinking about that last morning with her as I wait here in the parking lot of the prison. Henry is being released today. Without my daughter’s testimony he is a free man after only 18 months in jail. I see the man that killed my beautiful daughter walk out of the prison and I pull up to the curb. He is exclaiming into the phone, “I’m Free! I’m Free” as he slides into the back of my cab. 

When he closes the door his phone loses service. He looks at it but is not concerned. He hasn’t yet noticed the reinforced screen that separates us. He hasn’t noticed that the back doors automatically locked when he entered. He is as oblivious as I was when he snuck into our lives. But then he looks up and sees my eyes reflected in the rearview mirror.