Chapter 4 - Ethan moved first.He stepped between the stranger and me.
"Take your hand out."
The man's expression didn't change.
He slowly removed a folded piece of paper from his coat.
Nothing else.
He held it out.
"For Emily."
Ethan didn't take it.
"Put it on the desk."
The man did.
Then he backed away.
"I've spent twenty-six years trying to keep this from happening."
"What?"
"Your husband."
The man's eyes settled on me.
"Daniel isn't the architect."
I swallowed.
"Then who is?"
He looked toward the hallway.
"You don't have much time."
He turned.
Ethan grabbed his arm.
The man stopped.
"What's your name?"
"Marcus."
"Marcus what?"
The man smiled sadly.
"Ask your mother."
Then he walked away.
Ethan ran after him.
I remained frozen.
My mother.
The woman who had died when I was fifteen.
The woman my father had told me was the kindest person he'd ever known.
Why would Marcus tell me to ask her?
I opened the folded paper.
Inside was a photograph.
My mother.
A much younger Jacqueline.
And my father.
They were standing in front of our house.
On the back was written:
The first betrayal happened before your birth.
I stared at it.
Something in the photograph bothered me.
I zoomed in.
My mother was holding a baby.
Me.
But beside her stood Jacqueline.
And Jacqueline was not smiling.
She looked terrified.
"What did she know?"
Ethan returned.
"He got away."
"Did you see where he went?"
"No."
I handed him the photograph.
He studied it.
Then his face changed.
"What?"
He pointed.
"There."
Behind my mother was a wooden door.
Almost hidden beneath ivy.
I recognized it immediately.
The basement entrance.
But our house didn't have a basement.
At least, not according to every floor plan I had ever seen.
I called Daniel.
It rang once.
Then voicemail.
I called again.
Voicemail.
I checked Sophie's location.
The family tracker had been disabled.
My stomach twisted.
I called his mother.
She answered immediately.
"Hello?"
"Mrs. Carter, where is Sophie?"
Silence.
Then she said,
"What are you talking about?"
"Daniel told me she's with you."
"I haven't seen Sophie today."
Everything inside me went cold.
"Are you sure?"
"Emily, what's happening?"
"I'll call you back."
I hung up.
Ethan stared at me.
"They've got Sophie."
"No."
"Emily."
"No. Daniel wouldn't."
My phone buzzed.
A message.
From Daniel.
Stop asking questions. Come home.
A second message arrived.
We need to talk before tomorrow.
I looked at Ethan.
"He's lying."
"What?"
"I know where Sophie is."
"Where?"
"The old lake house."
Ethan's face darkened.
"Why would she be there?"
I remembered something.
Two months earlier, Jacqueline had jokingly asked Sophie where her favorite place was.
Sophie had said the lake house.
Jacqueline had laughed.
"Then maybe you'll live there someday."
At the time, I thought it was harmless.
Now I remembered the way she had looked at me.
Not joking.
Watching.
We drove.
The lake house was forty-five minutes outside the city.
Daniel rarely took us there.
He claimed the plumbing needed repairs.
When we arrived, the front door was unlocked.
I whispered Sophie's name.
Nothing.
Ethan searched downstairs.
I ran upstairs.
Her room was empty.
The bed was untouched.
A drawer was open.
Inside were her clothes.
But on the desk sat a note.
My daughter's handwriting.
Mom,
I don't know why Dad is mad.
Jacqueline said I should stay here until tomorrow.
She told me you're going to make Dad leave us.
I dropped the note.
Ethan picked it up.
"She was here."
A noise came from outside.
A car door.
We looked through the window.
A black sedan.
Jacqueline stepped out.
She looked toward the house.
Then she made a phone call.
I grabbed my phone and started recording.
She said,
"She's here."
Pause.
"No. The girl isn't."
Another pause.
Then:
"Daniel says we continue as planned."
Ethan whispered,
"Who is she talking to?"
Jacqueline looked toward the lake.
Then she said something that made my blood freeze.
"Emily doesn't know about the child."
The call ended.
I looked at Ethan.
"What child?"
Before he could answer, the sedan drove away.
I ran outside.
There was something on the ground where Jacqueline had stood.
A small silver key.
Attached to a tag.
B-13
I picked it up.
Ethan frowned.
"What does that open?"
"I don't know."
Then I remembered the hidden door from the photograph.
The basement entrance.
B-13.
My heart pounded.
"We're going home."
When we returned to my house, the security alarm was off.
The front door was unlocked.
Inside, every light was on.
The wineglasses were gone.
So were Jacqueline's shoes.
But something else was waiting for me on the kitchen island.
A folder.
My name was written on the front.
I opened it.
Inside was a single document.
PATERNITY ACKNOWLEDGMENT
Daniel Carter.
And beneath his name, another line.
Biological child: Sophie Carter.
That wasn't strange.
Until I saw the final section.
Biological mother: Jacqueline Moore.
I couldn't breathe.
Ethan grabbed the document.
"No."
I stared at it.
"That's impossible."
But then another paper slipped from the folder.
A hospital birth record.
The mother's name had been blacked out.
Except for one visible word.
Jacqueline.
My knees weakened.
Ethan whispered,
"Emily..."
I looked up.
"What?"
He was staring at the date.
The date Sophie was born.
The same date I had been in the hospital.
The same day I had given birth.
Except the name on the record wasn't mine.
May you like
And suddenly, the question wasn't whether Daniel had cheated.
It was whether my daughter had ever been mine at all.
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