Chapter 3 - The Man Who Looked Like GlenNobody moved when the red light began flashing.
It blinked once every second.
Slow.
Steady.
Almost calm.
That somehow made it worse.
Glen stepped toward Clara.
“What is that?”
Clara backed away.
“Don't touch it.”
“You've got a machine strapped to your stomach playing a video of me.”
“I know.”
“That man isn't me.”
“I know.”
“Then who is he?”
Clara's eyes filled with tears.
“I don't know.”
My father stared at her.
“You're lying.”
She looked at him.
“I wish I were.”
The device beeped.
Ariel buried her face against my hip.
“Mommy, make it stop.”
I covered her ears.
The screen on Clara’s abdomen went black.
Then a message appeared.
IDENTITY CONFIRMATION FAILED.
A second line appeared.
PRIMARY SUBJECT NOT PRESENT.
My stomach twisted.
Glen took another step.
“Who is the primary subject?”
Clara looked at me.
“You.”
I laughed.
A strange, nervous sound.
“No.”
She nodded.
“Yes.”
She turned toward Glen.
“That's why Ariel said Daddy was inside me.”
“What does that even mean?” he demanded.
“It means she can recognize you.”
“She saw a video!”
“No.”
Clara shook her head.
“She heard him before she saw you.”
I felt my skin crawl.
“What are you talking about?”
Clara looked at Ariel.
“She's been hearing him for months.”
I stared at my daughter.
Ariel stared back.
“Sweetheart?”
She whispered, “The man in the wall.”
Glen's face went pale.
“What wall?”
Ariel pointed toward our house.
“The bedroom wall.”
Nobody spoke.
I felt sick.
Because there was something Ariel had been doing for months that I'd dismissed as childish imagination.
She would wake up at night.
She would stare toward the wall beside our bed.
Sometimes she'd whisper to someone.
I had assumed she was dreaming.
Now I wasn't so sure.
Clara slowly sat down.
“I found the device three weeks ago.”
My father demanded, “Where?”
“Under the floor.”
“Whose floor?”
She looked at me.
“Your daughter's room.”
I felt the air leave my lungs.
“What?”
Clara continued.
“There was a cavity beneath the floorboards. Inside it was a box full of electronics. Cameras. Audio equipment. A transmitter.”
Glen looked at me.
“I've never been in Ariel's room without you.”
I stared at him.
“I know.”
“Then who installed it?”
Clara didn't answer.
My father did.
“Someone who had access to the house.”
I looked at Glen.
He looked at me.
Neither of us spoke.
Then my phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
I answered.
No one spoke.
I could hear breathing.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Then a man's voice whispered:
“You shouldn't have opened Clara's device.”
My blood froze.
I looked around the backyard.
“Who is this?”
“You have five minutes.”
“For what?”
“Before I take your daughter.”
I grabbed Ariel.
Glen stepped beside me.
“Don't touch her.”
The voice laughed softly.
“You still think she's your daughter?”
I felt the world disappear beneath my feet.
“What does that mean?”
There was a pause.
Then:
“Ask your husband who signed the adoption papers.”
I turned toward Glen.
He looked stunned.
“I never adopted Ariel.”
The voice said:
“Exactly.”
The call ended.
I stared at my husband.
“You told me Ariel was ours.”
“She is.”
“You told me everything about the pregnancy was normal.”
“It was.”
Clara suddenly whispered:
“No, it wasn't.”
I turned toward her.
She was staring at Glen's wedding ring.
Then at my daughter's face.
Then back at me.
“Your husband wasn't in the hospital the night Ariel was born.”
My mouth went dry.
“What?”
Glen shook his head.
“That isn't true.”
Clara stood.
“I have proof.”
She reached beneath the black panel.
Pulled out a tiny storage card.
And placed it in my hand.
“There are seventeen years of secrets on this.”
I frowned.
“Seventeen?”
Clara nodded.
“That's how long I've been investigating your father.”
My father staggered backward.
“What?”
She looked at him.
Then at Glen.
Then at me.
“I didn't marry your father because I loved him.”
She swallowed.
May you like
“I married him because someone had already killed the woman who knew the truth.”
And before anyone could ask who that woman was, a car screeched to a stop outside the house.
