Chapter 5 - The Other WifeVictor's first wife was named Claire.
He had told me almost nothing about her.
Only that she had been depressed.
Only that their marriage had been a mistake.
Only that she had died by suicide.
Now I was looking at a photograph that contradicted everything.
Claire stood beside my mother.
They weren't smiling.
They looked frightened.
And both were looking directly at the camera.
"What happened to Claire?" I asked.
Detective Morgan took the photograph.
"Officially, suicide."
"And unofficially?"
"We're reopening the case."
My heart pounded.
Alex pointed to the ledger.
"Look at this."
A page near the back contained another list.
Women's names.
Dates of marriage.
Dates of death.
Every woman had married into the Voss family.
Every woman had died within three years.
My hands went numb.
"There are six."
Detective Morgan counted.
"Seven."
He turned the page.
The last name was mine.
Elena Hale.
The date beneath it had been left blank.
I stared at it.
"Was this their plan?"
Detective Morgan nodded slowly.
"It appears so."
A knock came at the door.
Everyone turned.
It was a nurse.
She stepped inside carrying flowers.
"These were delivered for you."
I frowned.
"From who?"
She looked at the card.
"Your husband."
Alex immediately took the bouquet.
"Don't touch it."
He placed it inside an evidence bag.
Detective Morgan examined the card.
There was one sentence.
"Some marriages end before the wife knows it."
I felt sick.
Then Alex noticed something inside the flowers.
A tiny black device.
A microphone.
The room went silent.
"He was listening to us."
Detective Morgan's team searched the room.
They found two more devices.
One under the bed.
One inside the television.
I felt violated.
My own hospital room hadn't been safe.
Nowhere felt safe.
That afternoon, Detective Morgan received a call.
He listened.
Then turned pale.
"What?"
He put the phone down.
"They found Claire's original case file."
"Where?"
"At a storage facility rented under Victor's name."
Alex's jaw tightened.
"What's inside?"
"The evidence box."
Detective Morgan looked at me.
"There's something else."
"What?"
"The box was opened."
"By who?"
"Someone got there before us."
My stomach dropped.
That evening, Alex refused to leave my room.
Around midnight, the lights flickered.
Then shut off.
Emergency lights came on.
The hallway became red.
A nurse shouted.
Something crashed nearby.
Alex stood instantly.
"Stay here."
He opened the door.
I heard a struggle.
Then silence.
"Alex?"
Nothing.
My heart raced.
I grabbed the call button.
A shadow passed beneath the door.
Slowly.
Then stopped.
The handle moved.
I pressed myself against the wall.
The door opened.
A man entered.
Black jacket.
Gloves.
Face covered.
He looked at me.
Then at the monitor.
He walked closer.
I couldn't move.
He reached into his pocket.
I screamed.
He suddenly froze.
Then whispered:
"Your brother doesn't know the truth."
I stared at him.
"What truth?"
He removed his mask.
My blood ran cold.
It wasn't Richard.
It wasn't Victor.
It wasn't anyone I knew.
But I had seen his face before.
In the photograph from my mother's box.
He was standing behind Richard.
The mysterious man nobody had identified.
He leaned closer.
"Your mother asked me to protect you."
I stared.
"You knew my mother?"
He nodded.
"And I failed her."
Then alarms began screaming in the hallway.
He looked toward the door.
"I don't have much time."
"What do you mean?"
He reached into his jacket and handed me a small envelope.
"Your mother left this for you."
Then he stepped backward.
"Whatever Victor tells you about the night she died..."
He looked at me.
"Don't believe him."
He disappeared into the darkness.
Seconds later, the lights came back.
Alex rushed in.
"Are you okay?"
I clutched the envelope.
"Someone was here."
"Who?"
I opened it.
Inside was a single photograph.
My mother.
Richard.
Victor.
Claire.
And the same mysterious man.
They were standing outside a hospital.
Written on the back:
"March 14."
The date my mother died.
Alex stared at the photograph.
"Where was this taken?"
I turned it over again.
Below the date were three more words.
"Room 314."
Detective Morgan entered.
"What's wrong?"
I handed him the photograph.
He stared at it.
Then his face went pale.
"Room 314."
"What?"
He looked at me.
"That's the room where your mother died."
May you like
Then he looked at Alex.
"And that's the room where Claire was born."
