Chapter 10: The Woman in the Photograph
For nearly a minute, I couldn't move.
I read the message again.
*And neither is your mother.*
It made no sense.
My mother had been buried twelve years earlier. I had stood beside her grave. I had watched my father lower a handful of dirt onto the coffin.
I remembered the funeral flowers.
I remembered the black limousine.
I remembered crying so hard that my father had to carry me away from the cemetery.
My mother was dead.
She had to be.
"Michael?""
Samuel's voice brought me back.
I turned my phone toward him.
He read the message.
Then his expression changed.
"That's impossible.""
"That's what I thought.""
Nia took the phone from my hand and examined the photograph of my father.
"Look at his wrist.""
I enlarged the image.
My father's left wrist was partially visible.
There was a hospital identification bracelet around it.
But beneath the bracelet was something else.
A small red thread.
I recognized it.
My mother used to tie red threads around our wrists whenever she believed we needed protection. She had tied one around mine the day before the accident.
My father had kept the tradition.
Even after she died.
"That's from his personal bracelet," I whispered.
Nia nodded.
"He wears it every day.""
Samuel stepped toward the door.
"We have to go.""
I caught his arm.
"That's exactly what they want.""
"Then what do you suggest? We leave him there?""
"No. We think first.""
I called the police again and explained the threatening messages. I also sent them the photograph and the audio recording.
The officer told me they were dispatching a team to investigate the warehouse.
But I knew we couldn't simply wait.
Edward had my father.
And he had already proved that he could manipulate people inside the police, the nursing facility, and my own household.
I called Robert again.
This time, someone answered.
A woman.
"Hello?""
"Who is this?""
"My name is Eleanor Hayes.""
Robert's wife.
I had met her several times over the years.
"Where's Robert?""
She began crying.
"Michael, I don't know where he is.""
"Have you seen Edward?""
Silence.
Then she whispered, "Yes.""
I gripped the phone.
"When?""
"Last night.""
"Was Robert with him?""
"He came to our house. He said he needed to speak to Robert about your father's estate.""
"Did he leave with him?""
Eleanor sobbed.
"No. Robert told me to hide upstairs. I heard them arguing. Then I heard a gunshot.""
My stomach dropped.
"Did you see what happened?""
"No. When I came downstairs, Robert was gone. There was blood on the carpet.""
I closed my eyes.
"Did you call the police?""
"I couldn't.""
"Why?""
She hesitated.
"Because someone called me afterward.""
"Who?""
"Your mother.""
I stopped breathing.
"What?""
Eleanor's voice trembled.
"She said if I wanted my husband back alive, I had to keep quiet.""
I looked at Samuel.
He was staring at me.
"Mrs. Hayes, are you absolutely certain?""
"I know her voice, Michael. I heard it. She called me by my childhood nickname. Nobody else knows that name.""
I swallowed.
"Did she tell you where she was?""
"She said she was going home.""
"Home?""
"Your father's old house. The one near the lake.""
I ended the call.
For a moment, the only sound in the room was the ticking of the wall clock.
Then Samuel spoke.
"Your mother might be alive.""
I shook my head.
"I need proof.""
Nia approached me.
"Your father once told me something about the funeral.""
"What?""
"He said the woman in the coffin wasn't your mother.""
I stared at her.
"Why would he say that?""
"He said he never got to say goodbye to the woman he loved.""
My knees weakened.
I sat down.
"Did he explain?""
"No. He became upset whenever I asked.""
I looked at Samuel.
"Do you remember anything else from that night?""
He closed his eyes.
For a few seconds, he didn't speak.
Then he whispered, "There was another woman in the car.""
"What woman?""
"I don't know. I was sitting in the back. I remember someone screaming after the crash.""
"Could it have been your mother?""
Samuel shook his head.
"Claire wasn't there. She was already dead.""
I looked at him.
"Then who?""
He opened his eyes.
"Your mother.""
My phone vibrated.
Another photograph.
This one showed a woman standing beside a large window.
She had shoulder-length brown hair.
A pale face.
And a familiar silver necklace.
I stared at the image.
It was my mother.
Older, perhaps thinner, but unmistakably her.
Beneath the photograph was a message.
*If you want to see her, come to the lake house. Bring Samuel. Leave the recording behind.*
I looked at the image again.
There was something written on the glass behind her.
Three words.
*DON'T TRUST VANESSA.*
I turned toward my wife.
She had been standing silently near the hallway.
Her face was pale.
"Michael," she whispered.
I held up the phone.
"Is my mother alive?""
Vanessa began crying.
Then she nodded.
"Yes.""
The room seemed to disappear.
I struggled to find my voice.
"How long have you known?""
She covered her face.
"Since the funeral.""
I stared at her.
Twelve years.
Twelve years of pretending.
Twelve years of visiting a grave she knew belonged to someone else.
Twelve years of watching me grieve.
"Why?""
Vanessa lowered her hands.
"Because your mother was the only person who could destroy Edward.""
I looked at Samuel.
He was staring at Vanessa with disgust.
I stepped closer to my wife.
"Where is she?""
Vanessa shook her head.
"I don't know exactly.""
"You're going to tell me everything.""
She nodded.
Then she whispered something that made the next part of my life even more terrifying.
"Michael, your mother didn't disappear because Edward wanted her dead.""
I frowned.
"Then why?""
May you like
Vanessa looked directly into my eyes.
"Because she was the one who arranged his disappearance eleven years ago.""
