Chapter 7: The Man Across the Road
The emergency protective order was granted the following morning.
Paul called me at eight forty-five.
"Judge reviewed the school footage, the message history, and your mother's statement.
Order is in effect as of now.
He cannot come within three hundred meters of Lily, of your home address, or of Ashfield Primary.
Violation is an immediate arrestable offense."
"Does he know yet?"
"His last known address is being served this morning."
I exhaled slowly.
"Thank you, Paul."
"Don't thank me yet.
An order is a piece of paper.
It works on people who respect paper.
Make sure the school has a copy by nine."
I emailed Dr.
Osei the order before I walked Lily to school.
She confirmed receipt before we reached the gate.
For three days, nothing happened.
Lily went to school.
I went to work.
I checked the street each morning before we left and each evening when we returned.
I slept badly but I slept.
On the fourth day, Paul called again.
"He was served," Paul said.
"And he responded."
"What does that mean?"
"He contacted a family solicitor.
He's filed a preliminary inquiry into establishing biological paternity rights.
It has no legal standing given your adoption, and his solicitor almost certainly knows that, but he's filed it anyway."
I sat down.
"Why?"
"Two reasons.
First, to create a paper trail that positions him as a concerned father rather than a stalker — it changes the narrative if this ends up in front of a judge.
Second, to send you a message."
"That he's not going away."
"That he has resources and patience.
Yes."
I thought about the message he had sent Marlene.
*I'll wait as long as I need to.*
"Can he win the paternity inquiry?"
"No.
Your adoption is a legal wall.
But he can make the process slow and expensive and emotionally exhausting.
That may be the point."
"So what do we do?"
"We document everything.
Every contact attempt, every filing, every message.
We build a pattern that a judge can look at and call what it is." A pause.
"And I want to hire a private investigator to establish his current movements.
If he violates the order — even once — I want it on record within the hour."
"Do it."
I hung up and stood at the kitchen window for a moment.
Then my phone buzzed.
A number I didn't recognize.
I answered.
"Mr.
Calloway." A man's voice.
Calm.
Measured.
The voice of someone who had rehearsed this.
"I think it's time we spoke directly.
I'm not your enemy.
I never was."
My hand tightened on the phone.
Daniel Voss.
"You've just violated a court order," I said.
"This call is being recorded."
It wasn't.
But he didn't know that.
A pause.
"I just want to talk."
"Then talk to my attorney." I ended the call and immediately rang Paul.
"He called me directly," I said.
"Unknown number.
I told him the call was being recorded."
"Was it?"
"No."
"Start recording every call you receive from unknown numbers.
There's an app — I'll text you the name.
And send me the number he called from."
I did both.
Paul called back twenty minutes later.
"Number is registered to a prepaid SIM.
Purchased three weeks ago.
Same week he first appeared on the school gate footage."
"He planned this."
"He's been planning this for a while," Paul said.
"The PI starts tomorrow."
That night, I sat with Lily while she did her reading homework.
She sounded out each word carefully, her finger moving under the line, her forehead slightly creased with concentration.
When she finished the page she looked up.
"Dad.
Do you miss Mum?"
"Every day."
She nodded, satisfied with the honesty of it.
"Me too.
Even though I don't really remember her."
"You have her eyes," I said.
Lily touched her face, just below her left eye, with one finger.
"Mrs.
Hadley said that too."
She turned the page and kept reading.
May you like
I watched her and thought about Claire standing at a window at four in the morning, watching a man stand in the street below, not calling the police because she didn't want to wake her daughter.
I thought: *Not this time.*
