Chapter 8 - The PassengerElias sat at the kitchen table.
Samuel placed the recovered footage in front of him.
“Who was in the car?”
Elias didn't answer.
“Rachel?”
“Yes.”
“Avery?”
“No.”
“Who?”
Elias looked toward the windows.
“Another woman.”
Samuel frowned.
“Who?”
“Her name was Claire.”
“Claire who?”
“I never learned her last name.”
Samuel stared.
“What was she doing there?”
“She was supposed to take Rachel somewhere safe.”
“From Jordan?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did the accident happen?”
Elias rubbed his forehead.
“Because someone tampered with Rachel's brakes.”
Samuel went still.
“Did you see it?”
“I saw Rachel's car leave.”
“Then?”
“I followed.”
“Why?”
“Rachel asked me to.”
“Did the black sedan follow you?”
“Yes.”
Samuel leaned forward.
“Who was driving?”
Elias looked at him.
“Jordan.”
The room went silent.
Nora asked, “Then why was Rachel's car alone when it passed the final camera?”
“Because the black sedan intercepted it.”
“How?”
“A side road.”
Elias pulled a folded map from his coat.
He marked a location.
“Here.”
Samuel recognized it.
The same curve where Rachel had died.
“But the police report says—”
“The police report is false.”
“Who changed it?”
Elias looked at the blue elastic.
“Rachel knew before she died that someone inside law enforcement was helping Jordan.”
Samuel's jaw tightened.
“Who?”
Elias shook his head.
“I don't know.”
“Then why come here?”
“Because I found Claire.”
Samuel stood.
“Where?”
Elias's expression changed.
“She is dead.”
Silence.
“She was found two days after Rachel died.”
Samuel looked at Nora.
“How?”
“Car crash.”
“Accident?”
Elias nodded.
“Same road.”
Samuel felt the pieces locking together.
Rachel.
Claire.
Two deaths.
One road.
And one story.
Meanwhile, Jordan sat alone in his office.
Madeline entered.
“You need to leave town.”
Jordan looked up.
“No.”
“Samuel has Adrian.”
Jordan's expression tightened.
“How?”
“I don't know.”
“You said Adrian was gone.”
“He was.”
“Then why is he alive?”
Madeline slammed her hand on the desk.
“Because you failed to finish the job.”
Jordan stood.
“Don't blame me.”
“I will blame whoever I want.”
“You told me Rachel had nothing.”
“She had a ledger.”
“She had a copy.”
“And now Samuel has it.”
Jordan stared.
“Not yet.”
Madeline smiled.
“Then get it.”
“How?”
“Through Avery.”
Jordan looked at her.
“What does that mean?”
Madeline's face became cold.
“Children trust patterns.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Make Avery remember something incorrectly.”
Jordan stared in disbelief.
“She is six.”
“Exactly.”
Madeline leaned closer.
“Six-year-olds can be convinced that memories belong somewhere else.”
Jordan looked away.
“That is sick.”
Madeline smiled.
“Then don't make me do it.”
That night, someone entered Samuel's house.
The security alarm never triggered.
Avery woke to a shadow.
She didn't scream.
She saw the figure walk toward her desk.
The stranger opened a drawer.
Then stopped.
Avery recognized the coat.
“Daddy?”
The figure turned.
It wasn't Jordan.
The man rushed to her.
“Where is the blue book?”
Avery backed away.
“I don't know.”
“Yes, you do.”
“You're hurting me.”
He grabbed her arm.
Samuel heard the noise from downstairs.
He ran.
The stranger fled through the window.
Samuel reached Avery.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded, crying.
Nora called the police.
Samuel looked around.
The blue book was missing.
But Avery whispered:
“He didn't take it.”
Samuel froze.
“What?”
“He took the wrong book.”
She pointed to a drawer.
The attacker had grabbed a children's coloring book.
Samuel stared.
“Then where is the ledger?”
Avery slowly lifted her stuffed rabbit.
“Mommy put it here.”
Samuel opened the rabbit's stitched stomach.
Inside was a tiny blue notebook.
Not a ledger.
A key was taped to its cover.
Rachel's handwriting appeared on the first page:
The ledger is where Jordan buried the first lie.
Samuel looked at Avery.
“What does that mean?”
May you like
Avery whispered:
“The church.”
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