We stared at the photograph until the screen went dark.
Vanessa.
My stepmother.
The woman who had packed my suitcase.
The woman who had watched me leave the hospital.
The woman who had spent years making me believe I was unwanted.
She was with David.
Rachel looked at me.
“I'm sorry.”
I shook my head.
“I knew.”
“No,” she said. “You suspected.”
“I should have known.”
“You were a child.”
“I was fourteen when she started doing this.”
“You were still a child.”
Thomas placed a hand on my shoulder.
“Don't blame yourself for someone else's choices.”
I looked at the photograph again.
“The folder.”
Michael leaned forward.
“What?”
“Vanessa was holding a folder.”
He studied the image.
“She may have found the financial records.”
“Then why send us the photograph?”
“To make you think she has them.”
Collins shook his head.
“Or because she does.”
Michael looked toward him.
“Either way, David wants Emily to react.”
I stared at the screen.
“He knows exactly what scares me.”
Rachel sat beside me.
“Then we stop giving him what he wants.”
“What does he want?”
Michael answered.
“Control.”
He paused.
“And the location of the original records.”
I looked at him.
“Does he know the photograph isn't real?”
“Probably.”
“Then why ask for it?”
“Because he wants to know whether you know that.”
I frowned.
Michael continued.
“David doesn't just collect evidence. He studies people.”
That sounded like my father.
He had always known when I was lying.
He knew how to make me apologize.
He knew how to make me feel guilty.
He knew how to make me doubt myself.
Now I understood that those weren't parenting skills.
They were control.
Collins's radio crackled.
The officer from the warehouse had been found.
Alive.
Unconscious.
The fake photograph was gone.
No other officers were injured.
Collins looked relieved.
Michael wasn't.
“He wanted you to think he took the photograph.”
“Why?”
“Because he wants us looking in the wrong place.”
I looked at him.
“Where should we be looking?”
He stared at me.
“The old house.”
My heart tightened.
“That photograph showed my room.”
“Yes.”
“But you said it wasn't my room.”
“It isn't.”
Thomas frowned.
“What do you mean?”
Michael pointed to the image.
“Look at the window.”
I did.
“There isn't one.”
My old bedroom had two windows.
One faced the street.
The other faced the backyard.
This room had none.
“Where is this?”
Michael answered.
“David's private office.”
Rachel looked confused.
“Why would he make it look like Emily's room?”
“Because he wants her to believe he's watching her.”
I felt a cold sensation move through me.
“Then Vanessa is in his office.”
“Yes.”
“With the folder.”
“Yes.”
“What is inside?”
Michael hesitated.
“Possibly the original birth records.”
Rachel stiffened.
“Or the evidence.”
We returned to the warehouse.
Collins refused to let me go inside.
Instead, he brought the photograph onto a larger screen.
We examined every detail.
The desk.
The shelves.
The mirror.
The folder.
Then Thomas noticed something.
“Stop.”
The image froze.
He pointed to the wall.
“Those paintings.”
I looked.
Three framed photographs hung behind Vanessa.
Thomas's face changed.
“I know that room.”
“Where?”
“My old law office.”
I frowned.
“Your office?”
“Yes.”
“But it's been empty for years.”
“David bought the building.”
Michael nodded.
“He uses it.”
Rachel stared at the screen.
“That was where Daniel kept his records.”
I turned.
“What?”
“Before he died.”
Thomas looked stunned.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“I didn't know David had access to it.”
Michael shook his head.
“He does now.”
Collins stood.
“We're going there.”
“No,” Michael said.
Everyone looked at him.
“He wants us to.”
Collins narrowed his eyes.
“Then what do you suggest?”
“We go somewhere he doesn't expect.”
“Where?”
Michael looked at me.
“Your father's house.”
Rachel immediately objected.
“No.”
I spoke first.
“Why?”
“Because David thinks everyone is afraid to go there.”
Michael smiled faintly.
“He'll be right.”
We left before dawn.
The old house looked exactly as I remembered it.
The same porch.
The same white curtains.
The same cracked flowerpot beside the steps.
I had once believed that house was my whole world.
Now it looked like a crime scene.
Collins's team surrounded the property.
We entered through the back door.
The kitchen was untouched.
The broken bowl was still gone.
I stood in the center of the room.
“I remember this.”
Rachel touched the counter.
“I remember you sitting here.”
“I remember Dad yelling.”
Her face tightened.
“He yelled a lot.”
We moved toward the office.
The door was locked.
Thomas produced an old key.
It didn't work.
Michael tried another.
Nothing.
Then I noticed the scratch on the wall.
The same kind of scratch I had seen behind the filing cabinet.
“There.”
Collins moved the cabinet.
A hidden latch appeared.
The door opened.
Inside was a narrow staircase.
Rachel stared.
“I never knew this existed.”
Thomas shook his head.
“Neither did I.”
We went down.
The air smelled of dust and old paper.
At the bottom was a room filled with boxes.
Financial records.
Photographs.
Bank statements.
Medical documents.
My entire childhood seemed to be stored there.
I picked up a file.
My name was on it.
Emily Mercer.
I opened it.
Inside were copies of school reports.
Medical records.
Photographs.
Notes about my behavior.
Dates.
Times.
People I had spoken to.
I stared.
“He was monitoring me.”
Rachel took the file.
Her face hardened.
“For years.”
Thomas opened another box.
Inside were letters.
Hundreds.
All addressed to me.
My mother's letters.
The originals.
I touched them.
“He kept them.”
Rachel closed her eyes.
“He wanted you to believe I forgot you.”
I found another folder.
It contained photographs of Daniel.
Then one of Eleanor.
Then one of Vanessa.
The final photograph showed all three together.
Michael stared.
“I didn't know this existed.”
“What does it prove?”
He pointed.
“Vanessa met Eleanor before she met David.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
Michael turned the photograph over.
A date was written on the back.
Seven years before Vanessa married my father.
Rachel frowned.
“That can't be.”
Michael shook his head.
“It can.”
Thomas found another document.
“There's more.”
He held up a contract.
Vanessa had signed it.
The agreement described payments from David to her.
In return, she was to gain my trust.
I felt sick.
“She was paid to marry him?”
Michael nodded.
“For access.”
“Access to what?”
My mother's records.
I turned the page.
A handwritten note appeared.
Find out what Emily remembers about the night Rachel disappeared.
I froze.
I remembered something.
A sound.
A man's voice.
A car door.
And something else.
A red scarf.
My mother had worn one that night.
But in my memory, someone else had been wearing it too.
I closed my eyes.
“There's something I remember.”
Rachel looked at me.
“What?”
“A red scarf.”
Thomas stared.
“Whose?”
“I don't know.”
Michael's face changed.
“Vanessa.”
The room went silent.
Then we heard footsteps upstairs.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Someone was walking through the kitchen.
Collins raised his weapon.
Thomas moved me behind him.
The footsteps stopped above us.
A man's voice called down.
“Emily.”
My father's voice.
David had found us.
Click here to continue reading: PART 11: David Finally Faced Me in the Hidden Room, and His First Question Proved He Was More Afraid of My Memories Than the Evidence
The Night My Father Chose His New Wife, One Broken Bowl Became the Beginning of a Lie I Could No Longer Ignore
Part 10 of 20
