Chapter 3 - Rebecca Cole lived in a town forty minutes outside the city.Michael found the address using an old name in Sarah's email archive.
The house was small.
White siding.
Dead garden.
One porch light.
No cars.
He knocked.
Nothing.
He knocked again.
A curtain moved.
Then stopped.
Michael stepped back.
“Rebecca?”
The door opened an inch.
A woman's eye appeared.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Michael Hart.”
The door opened slightly wider.
Rebecca's face went pale.
“You shouldn't be here.”
“You knew my wife.”
Rebecca said nothing.
“She told me to find you.”
Rebecca stared at him.
Then whispered:
“Come inside.”
The house smelled like old books and coffee.
Rebecca locked the door behind him.
Three locks.
Michael noticed.
“You're afraid.”
“I've been afraid for two years.”
“Of Ashley?”
Rebecca looked toward the windows.
“Of everyone.”
Michael placed the photograph on the table.
Rebecca saw it.
Her hand trembled.
“Sarah kept that.”
“Yes.”
“She told me to destroy it.”
“Why didn't you?”
Rebecca sat down.
“Because she believed the truth would matter someday.”
Michael leaned forward.
“What truth?”
Rebecca took a long breath.
“The week before Sarah died, she discovered Ashley had been watching your family.”
Michael frowned.
“Watching us?”
“Not just you. Emma.”
“For how long?”
“Months.”
Rebecca opened a drawer and removed a stack of old papers.
“She was collecting information about Emma's behavior.”
Michael recognized the format.
School notes.
Medical notes.
Counselor summaries.
His jaw tightened.
“This is the same stuff.”
Rebecca nodded.
“She wanted a legal reason to remove Emma from the home.”
“Why?”
“Because of the trust.”
Michael stared.
“What trust?”
Rebecca looked at him.
“Sarah had a life insurance trust for Emma.”
“I know.”
“No. You know about the insurance. You don't know what was attached to it.”
Rebecca pushed another document across the table.
Michael read it.
His heart stopped.
If Emma were declared incapable of living independently under Michael's guardianship, control of certain assets could be transferred to a court-appointed trustee.
And the trustee named in the document was Daniel Mercer.
Michael looked up.
“Daniel.”
Rebecca nodded.
“He was involved from the beginning.”
“But why would he help Ashley?”
“He wasn't supposed to.”
“What does that mean?”
Rebecca reached for another folder.
Before she could open it, the lights went out.
Both of them froze.
Silence swallowed the room.
Michael stood.
“Stay here.”
He moved toward the front window.
Outside, the street was dark.
A car door slammed.
Rebecca whispered:
“They found me.”
Footsteps approached the house.
Slow.
Measured.
Three knocks.
Rebecca's face drained of color.
Michael reached for his phone.
Another three knocks.
Then a voice.
“Rebecca?”
Michael knew that voice.
Ashley.
Rebecca covered her mouth.
“How did she find you?”
Michael had no answer.
The doorknob moved.
Ashley tried the handle.
Locked.
“You're not opening the door?” she called.
Michael whispered:
“How many exits?”
“Back door.”
“Go.”
Rebecca shook her head.
“They're watching it.”
Michael looked around.
There was a narrow basement stairwell.
He pointed.
“Down.”
They rushed downstairs.
Above them, the front door shook.
“Michael!”
Ashley shouted his name.
He felt a chill.
She knew he was there.
Rebecca pulled him toward a second door.
It opened into an alley.
They slipped outside.
Rain had started.
They ran.
Michael looked back once.
Ashley's silhouette stood in Rebecca's upstairs window.
She was watching them leave.
Neither of them spoke until they reached Michael's car.
Inside, Rebecca finally opened the folder.
There were photographs.
Ashley outside Emma's school.
Ashley entering a counseling office.
Ashley meeting Daniel.
And one photograph that made Michael's stomach turn.
Ashley standing beside Sarah's car.
The night Sarah died.
Michael stared at the timestamp.
11:08 p.m.
Sarah's accident had been reported at 11:31.
“She was there.”
Rebecca nodded.
“She wasn't supposed to be.”
Michael looked at her.
“What happened that night?”
Rebecca hesitated.
“I wasn't there.”
“You said you were with Sarah.”
“I was supposed to be.”
“What stopped you?”
Rebecca's eyes filled with tears.
“I got a message from Sarah.”
“What did it say?”
Rebecca pulled out her old phone.
The message was still there.
Don't come. He's with her.
Michael's blood ran cold.
“Who's he?”
Rebecca shook her head.
“I never knew.”
“Then why did you keep this?”
“Because an hour later, Sarah called me.”
“And?”
“She whispered one sentence.”
Michael waited.
Rebecca looked at him.
“She said, ‘If Michael asks, tell him I left the house willingly.’”
Michael's face tightened.
“She told you to lie.”
Rebecca nodded.
“Then the line went dead.”
Michael stared through the windshield.
His wife had known something was coming.
And instead of telling him, she had tried to protect him.
“Why didn't you tell the police?”
Rebecca laughed bitterly.
“I did.”
“What happened?”
“They said the evidence pointed to an accident.”
Michael remembered that night.
Rain.
A wet highway.
Sarah's car crossing the median.
A single eyewitness.
No suspicious activity.
He had accepted it because he had needed something simple to believe.
Now nothing felt simple.
Rebecca touched his arm.
“There is another reason Ashley wanted Emma gone.”
“What?”
“Emma saw something.”
Michael looked at her.
“What did she see?”
Rebecca stared at the photograph.
“She saw the last person who spoke to Sarah.”
Michael felt his throat tighten.
“Who?”
Rebecca whispered:
“Daniel Mercer.”
The same man who had warned Michael not to show anyone the second key.
The same man whose name appeared in Sarah's final messages.
Michael reached for his phone.
Before he could call Daniel, a new message appeared.
From Ashley.
You are making this much harder than it has to be.
Then another.
Come home. Alone.
Michael stared at the screen.
Rebecca whispered:
“Don't.”
Michael looked up.
“I have to.”
“No.”
“She has my daughter.”
Rebecca grabbed his arm.
“Michael, listen to me.”
He looked at her.
Rebecca's voice shook.
“Ashley doesn't want Emma gone.”
Michael frowned.
“Then what does she want?”
Rebecca stared into his eyes.
“She wants Emma discredited before someone asks what Emma witnessed.”
Michael's blood ran cold.
“What did she witness?”
May you like
Rebecca's answer was almost inaudible.
“She saw Sarah fall.”
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