Chapter 4 - The Sister Who DiedThere had always been three Collins sisters.
Emily.
Me.
And Anna.
Except Anna had died when she was seventeen.
At least that was what we had been told.
My mother had never spoken about the accident in detail.
A winter road.
A crashed car.
A body recovered from a river.
Funeral.
Burial.
Done.
For twenty years, it had been the one locked room in our family.
Now someone had just opened the door.
When I reached my parents' house, the front door stood open.
My hand went to my weapon.
“Mom?”
No answer.
I entered slowly.
The house was silent.
A photograph lay on the stairs.
Three girls stood in front of a Christmas tree.
Emily.
Me.
Anna.
And behind us stood another girl.
A girl I did not recognize.
Her hand rested on Anna's shoulder.
I picked up the photograph.
The back contained one sentence.
YOUR MOTHER TOLD YOU THERE WERE THREE.
I heard footsteps.
I turned.
My mother stood at the end of the hallway.
She looked at the photograph.
Then at me.
And began to cry.
“You knew.”
She shook her head.
“I didn't know he would come back.”
“Who?”
She sat down.
“Daniel.”
My anger exploded.
“What does Daniel have to do with Anna?”
Mom pressed both hands to her face.
“Everything.”
Emily arrived minutes later.
Mom looked at both of us.
Then she whispered:
“Anna didn't die in the accident.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“What?”
“She survived.”
I stared at her.
“What are you saying?”
“She survived the crash.”
“Then where has she been?”
“Running.”
“From whom?”
Mom's eyes lifted.
“From the Mercer family.”
Harris arrived before we could get more.
I explained.
He listened.
Then he asked Mom a simple question.
“Who is the fourth girl?”
Mom did not answer.
She didn't have to.
Emily had already understood.
“The woman from Daniel's house.”
I turned toward her.
“What?”
Emily stared at the old photograph.
“The fourth girl.”
She pointed.
“That is her.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Emily, this photograph is twenty years old.”
“I know.”
“Then how can she be the same woman?”
Emily whispered:
“Because she never aged.”
Silence.
Harris leaned closer.
“What are you saying?”
Emily's hands began shaking.
“When I found the hidden room, there were pictures of women.”
She swallowed.
“One photograph was old.”
“How old?”
“Twenty years.”
“Who was in it?”
Emily looked at me.
“Anna.”
My mother's face went white.
I stepped forward.
“Tell me everything.”
Mom shook her head.
“I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“That if you knew, you'd go looking for her.”
“Maybe I should.”
“She doesn't want to be found.”
“Why?”
Mom looked toward the window.
“Because everyone who finds her dies.”
The room fell silent.
Harris asked:
“How many?”
Mom whispered:
“Four.”
I felt a chill.
“Lauren?”
Mom nodded.
“Lauren was one.”
“Who were the others?”
“Women who tried to expose the Mercers.”
“Why would Anna be connected to them?”
“She wasn't exposing them.”
Mom's eyes filled.
“She was working against them.”
The distinction mattered.
“What did she do?”
Mom looked at me.
“She built the list.”
“What list?”
“The names.”
“Of what?”
“People who helped Daniel.”
Judges.
Police officers.
Politicians.
Doctors.
Businessmen.
Anyone who protected him.
My head spun.
Mom stood and went to a cabinet.
From behind old plates, she removed a small metal box.
Inside was a cassette tape.
A key.
And a folded piece of paper.
Harris opened the paper.
A list of names.
Ten names.
The first was Daniel Mercer.
The second was Judge Peter Alden.
The third was a police lieutenant.
The fourth was a state senator.
The fifth was a federal prosecutor.
The rest were people I recognized from the city's most powerful circles.
Harris stared.
“Where did she get this?”
Mom whispered:
“Anna gave it to me.”
“When?”
“Last year.”
My heart stopped.
“Last year?”
Mom nodded.
“She came to the house.”
“Why didn't you tell us?”
“Because she said you were being watched.”
I thought about the listening device beneath my stairs.
The photograph across the street.
The black SUV.
Suddenly everything connected.
Anna had not returned to our family.
She had returned because the system was closing in.
And she had chosen Emily as the next person to receive the evidence.
I turned the cassette over.
On the label was one handwritten sentence.
PLAY THIS ONLY AFTER MARA KNOWS ABOUT LAUREN.
I stared at it.
“Why mention Lauren?”
Mom's face crumpled.
“Because Anna told me the night Lauren disappeared.”
“What?”
“She said Lauren had the first copy.”
“Of what?”
Mom looked at me.
“The Mercer ledger.”
Harris took a sharp breath.
“What ledger?”
Mom's voice fell to a whisper.
“The one with every payment Daniel ever made to keep people silent.”
We had barely stepped toward the old tape recorder when every light in the house went out.
A gunshot cracked somewhere outside.
Emily screamed.
I pushed her to the floor.
Another shot shattered the living room window.
We crawled behind the couch.
Harris drew his weapon.
“Stay down!”
A car engine roared outside.
Then silence.
I lifted my head.
On the floor beneath the broken window lay a small envelope.
No one had thrown it.
It had been placed there.
Inside was a photograph of Anna.
Alive.
Taken that morning.
May you like
And written across the bottom in black ink:
SHE'S WATCHING YOU, MARA.
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