Chapter 3 - THE SECOND LETTER
Hospital security moved me to a private room on another floor.
Thomas stayed beside me.
He made calls quietly from the window while two officers remained outside the door.
I watched him.
There was something strange about seeing a person I had believed was dead casually speaking on a phone.
But there was something even stranger about how people reacted to him.
Doctors knew his name.
Administrators came personally to speak with him.
A police lieutenant arrived thirty minutes later and called him “Your Honor” before correcting himself.
Thomas Mercer had apparently spent twenty-six years as a judge in Franklin County before retiring.
Nobody could explain why my father had told me he died.
Finally, Thomas ended his call.
“Emma.”
That was my name.
Emma Bennett.
I realized I had never even introduced myself to him.
But of course he knew.
He had probably known for fourteen years.
“Your father is downstairs.”
I sat upright.
“What?”
“He came back.”
Hope hit me before I could stop it.
Then shame followed immediately.
After everything Dad had done, some stupid part of me still wanted him to walk through the door and say he had made a terrible mistake.
Thomas must have seen it.
“You are allowed to love someone who failed you.”
My eyes burned.
“But loving them does not erase what they did.”
“Can I see him?”
Thomas was silent.
“I won’t stop you.”
Dad entered ten minutes later.
Vanessa was not with him.
He looked terrible.
His hair was wet from the rain. His shirt was wrinkled. His eyes went from me to Thomas.
Then his face changed.
“You.”
Thomas stood.
“Daniel.”
Dad looked like he had seen a ghost.
Which, I suppose, he had.
“You’re dead.”
“So I’ve heard.”
Dad stared at him.
“I went to your funeral.”
“No. You went to a closed-casket memorial arranged by people who told you I was dead.”
Dad’s face lost color.
“What are you talking about?”
Thomas studied him.
“You truly don’t know.”
“Know what?”
I interrupted.
“Dad, Mom was in St. Catherine’s the night she disappeared.”
He looked at me.
“What?”
“Nurse Denise saw her.”
“That’s impossible.”
“She was injured.”
“No.”
“Vanessa brought her there.”
His head snapped toward Thomas.
Thomas did not speak.
Dad shook his head.
“Vanessa barely knew Rachel.”
I almost laughed.
The sound came out broken.
“She worked for her.”
Dad stared at me.
“No.”
Thomas placed the photograph on the table.
Dad picked it up.
His face changed slowly.
I watched the exact moment he recognized Vanessa.
“What the hell?”
“You tell me,” Thomas said.
Dad lowered himself into a chair.
For the first time that night, he looked scared.
“I never saw this.”
“Because Rachel took it.”
Thomas pointed toward the date printed on the bottom.
“Three months before she disappeared.”
Dad rubbed both hands over his face.
“She told me Vanessa worked at another firm.”
“Apparently not.”
Dad looked at me.
“Emma, I didn’t know.”
I wanted to believe him.
Then I remembered the hospital doors closing behind him.
“You knew enough to leave me here.”
His shoulders dropped.
“I was angry.”
“You told me we were done.”
“I thought you hurt Vanessa.”
“You didn’t even ask me what happened.”
His eyes filled.
“I saw the blood.”
“I had blood too.”
That stopped him.
I pointed toward the stitches above my eye.
“You looked at her cut hand and believed her. You looked at me bleeding from my face and decided I was dangerous.”
Dad said nothing.
Thomas did.
“That is a conversation for another day. Right now, we need to know why Vanessa lied.”
Dad stood.
“I’ll ask her.”
“No.”
Thomas’s voice became sharp.
Dad turned.
“She’s my wife.”
“And someone threatened Emma less than an hour after she contacted me.”
Dad’s face tightened.
“You think Vanessa sent that?”
“I think we do not know enough to assume anything.”
Dad paced toward the door.
Then he stopped.
“There’s something you should see.”
He pulled out his phone.
“At the house, after Vanessa told me Emma attacked her, I went into Emma’s room.”
I stared at him.
“Why?”
“I wanted to see if there was anything…”
He could not finish.
Anything proving I was dangerous.
The thought hurt more than I expected.
Dad continued quietly.
“I found an envelope behind the dresser.”
My body went still.
“What envelope?”
“Addressed to you.”
Thomas looked at him.
“From Rachel?”
Dad nodded.
“It was unopened.”
“Where is it?”
“In my truck.”
Thomas immediately called the officer outside.
Twenty minutes later, the envelope sat on the hospital tray.
My name was written across the front.
Emma.
The handwriting matched the letter I already had.
My hands trembled as I opened it.
Inside were four pages.
And a small brass key.
The letter began:
My beautiful Emma,
If you are reading this, then the first letter reached you, which means somebody finally failed to stop me.
I looked up.
Dad went pale.
I kept reading.
There are three things you need to know.
First, I never left you.
Second, your grandfather is alive.
Third, the woman your father knows as Vanessa Cole is not who she says she is.
Dad whispered, “Jesus.”
I continued.
If Vanessa has become part of your life, do not confront her. Do not tell her you found this letter.
Go to Grandpa Thomas.
Give him the brass key.
He will know where it belongs.
I looked at Thomas.
He stared at the key.
“What?”
He did not answer.
“Grandpa?”
Finally, he reached for it.
His fingers were trembling now.
“I haven’t seen this key in eight years.”
“What does it open?”
Thomas looked at Dad.
Then at me.
“A safe-deposit box Rachel rented three days before she disappeared.”
Dad stood.
“Where?”
Thomas closed his hand around the key.
“First Federal Bank.”
Then his phone rang.
He glanced at the screen.
Unknown caller.
Thomas answered.
No one spoke.
Then a woman’s voice came through.
Faint.
Breathless.
“Dad?”
Thomas stopped breathing.
I stared at him.
The voice continued.
“If Emma found you…”
A long silence.
“…Vanessa already knows.”
The call disconnected.
Thomas slowly lowered the phone.
His face had gone completely white.
May you like
I whispered the question before I could stop myself.
“Was that my mother?”
