Chapter 5 - I stared at the photograph for so long that the words on the page began to blur.The woman looked young.
Maybe twenty-five.
Dark hair.
Thin face.
Serious eyes.
Underneath the photograph was a name:
Rachel Cole.
I had never heard it.
Officer Harris asked quietly, “Do you recognize her?”
“No.”
He turned another page.
There was a birth certificate.
Sophie's name was on it.
So was mine.
So was Mark's.
Rachel Cole was listed under a section I had never noticed on our original copy.
Prior parental claim.
I looked at him.
“What does that mean?”
“The paperwork was altered,” the detective said.
“Altered by who?”
“We're checking.”
I felt suddenly dizzy.
Sophie wasn't old enough to understand what was happening.
She was curled up on the couch upstairs, sleeping beside a female officer.
I kept thinking about the baths.
The timer.
The paper cup.
The questions.
And the sentence from the recording.
Phase One complete.
“What was Phase One?”
Officer Harris looked at me.
“We think Mark was trying to establish evidence that you were an unsafe parent.”
I shook my head.
“He fabricated everything?”
“That appears to be the direction.”
“But why?”
The detective didn't answer.
A phone rang.
An officer picked up.
Then he looked across the room.
“We have Rachel Cole.”
My heart slammed against my ribs.
“What?”
“She lives two hours away.”
“Bring her here.”
“We already asked.”
“And?”
“She wants to see Sophie.”
I should have felt relief.
Instead, I felt fear.
Because a tiny part of me wondered whether the police had just opened another door.
An hour later, Rachel arrived.
She walked into the station looking exhausted.
The moment she saw me, she stopped.
Then she started crying.
Not because she knew me.
Because she knew my daughter.
“Sophie,” she whispered.
I stepped backward.
“How do you know her?”
Rachel looked at me.
“Because I am her mother.”
My entire body went numb.
“No.”
Rachel shook her head.
“I gave birth to her.”
“That's impossible.”
Mark had told me Sophie was ours.
That Rachel was a woman who had abandoned her child.
That he had rescued Sophie from a broken situation.
Everything I believed about my marriage suddenly cracked.
Rachel sat down.
“I was eighteen.”
She wiped her eyes.
“Mark was twenty-four.”
I couldn't breathe.
“What does Mark have to do with you?”
Rachel stared at the floor.
“He told me he could help.”
“With what?”
“With my daughter.”
I stared at her.
“What happened?”
Rachel's hands trembled.
“I was terrified. I had no money. My parents were gone. Mark said he knew people who could arrange a private adoption.”
My stomach turned.
“But you signed?”
“I thought I was signing temporary guardianship.”
She looked at me.
“Then the papers changed.”
Silence.
“He took Sophie.”
I stepped back.
“You've been looking for her this whole time?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you go to the police?”
Rachel laughed bitterly.
“I did.”
Then she reached into her bag.
She pulled out an old envelope.
Inside was a photograph of a much younger Mark standing beside a woman.
The same woman appeared in another photograph.
And beside her stood a man I recognized.
My father.
I almost dropped the picture.
“My father?”
Rachel nodded.
“They knew each other.”
My pulse hammered.
“My father died when I was fourteen.”
“I know.”
She pointed at the photograph.
“That's why Mark chose you.”
I looked at her.
“Chose me for what?”
Rachel's answer was barely a whisper.
“To make Sophie disappear without anyone asking questions.”
Before I could respond, my phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
One message.
Ask Rachel why Mark calls her sister.
I stared at the screen.
Then I looked at Rachel.
She was already staring at me.
May you like
And for the first time, I wondered whether she had come to rescue Sophie...
or finish something Mark had started.
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