Chapter 8: Laura
I ran upstairs.
Michael followed.
“Dad!””
“Stay downstairs!””
But he didn't listen.
We reached the hallway together.
The bedroom window was open.
Rain blew through the curtains.
On the floor lay pieces of broken glass.
I looked outside.
No one.
Then I noticed the desk.
The cassette player was gone.
So was Emily's letter.
Claire came running up behind us.
“Did you see anyone?””
“No.””
Thomas appeared at the stairs.
“Check the back door.””
David ran downstairs.
Sarah remained frozen.
I turned toward her.
“Who knew about the tape?””
She shook her head.
“I don't know.””
“Who knew about Laura?””
“I don't know.””
“Stop saying that.””
“I swear.””
Michael suddenly crouched beside the window.
“Dad.””
“What?””
He pointed.
A muddy footprint marked the floor beneath the window.
Small.
Not a man's boot.
A woman's shoe.
I looked at Sarah.
She was wearing black heels.
The sole of one shoe was wet.
I stared at it.
Sarah noticed.
“Marcus…”
“Where did you go?””
“I didn't leave.””
“Your shoes are wet.””
“I walked from the car.””
“The car was parked at the front.””
She looked down.
Then toward the window.
“I…”
Thomas interrupted.
“She didn't take the tape.””
I turned.
“How do you know?””
“Because the person who took it isn't Sarah.””
“Then who?””
Thomas stared at the muddy footprint.
“Rachel.””
Claire's face changed.
“Rachel Reed?””
Thomas nodded.
“My wife.””
“You said she was protecting Michael.””
“I said I was.””
“What about her?””
Thomas looked toward Michael.
“She has spent sixteen years trying to find him.””
Michael's expression tightened.
“Why?””
“Because she believes he's her son.””
“But you said Laura was his mother.””
“Biological mother.””
Michael looked confused.
Thomas sighed.
“Rachel gave birth to a child sixteen years ago.””
Claire stared at him.
“Thomas…”
“The baby died.””
Silence.
Thomas continued.
“Rachel never accepted it.””
Michael took a step backward.
“You think I'm her dead baby?””
“No.””
Thomas shook his head.
“That's what Rachel believes.””
I looked at Sarah.
“And Emily knew this?””
“Yes.””
“That's why she kept the records?””
“Yes.””
“Then why did Sarah move Michael's box?””
Sarah began crying again.
“Because Rachel found out about it.””
I stared at her.
“When?””
“Three months ago.””
“Three months.””
The same time I started working late.
The same time Michael began eating alone upstairs.
The same time Sarah had started acting differently.
“What did Rachel want?””
“Michael.””
I felt cold.
“Why?””
“She believed if she could get close to him, she'd finally have her child back.””
Michael whispered, “She wanted to kidnap me?””
Sarah nodded.
“I thought so.””
Thomas looked at her.
“You should have told Marcus.””
“I know.””
“You let him walk into this blind.””
“I know!””
Sarah's voice broke.
“I was trying to fix it.””
I looked at her.
“How?””
She reached into her purse.
She pulled out a folded document.
“I was going to send Michael away.””
Michael stared at her.
“What?””
“Just temporarily.””
“Where?””
“Your grandmother's old cabin.””
I felt rage rise.
“You were going to hide my son?””
“To keep him safe.””
“Without telling me?””
“You wouldn't have listened.””
“Because you never gave me the chance.””
She lowered her head.
Michael walked away from her.
Then he stopped.
“Why did you hate me?””
Sarah looked up.
“I didn't.””
“You did.””
“No.””
“You made me eat alone.””
“I know.””
“You moved Mom's things.””
“I know.””
“You told me I wasn't family.””
Sarah started crying.
“I was jealous.””
Michael looked at her.
“Of Mom?””
“Yes.””
“She's dead.””
“I know.””
“Then why?””
Sarah wiped her face.
“Because every time you smiled like her, I remembered that I would never be the woman she was.””
I stared at her.
That was the first honest thing she'd said all night.
Then David came running upstairs.
“Marcus!””
“What?””
“The back door.””
He was breathing hard.
“Someone was here.””
“Who?””
He handed me a small object.
A silver bracelet.
Emily's bracelet.
The one that had been inside Michael's box.
My stomach dropped.
“How did this get outside?””
David shook his head.
“It was on the porch.””
Thomas took it.
He examined the clasp.
“This isn't Emily's.””
I frowned.
“What?””
“Look.””
He turned it over.
Engraved inside were two initials.
*L.R.*
Laura Reed.
Claire covered her mouth.
“That belonged to Laura.””
I looked at Thomas.
“Why would Rachel have it?””
He didn't answer.
Instead, he looked toward the road.
A dark car was parked beneath the trees.
The engine was running.
Thomas stepped toward the window.
“She's here.””
“Rachel?””
He nodded.
Then the car accelerated.
I ran outside.
It disappeared around the corner.
On the porch was a small cardboard box.
No name.
No address.
I opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
Michael as a newborn.
And beside him stood a woman.
Young.
Dark hair.
Tired eyes.
She was holding the baby against her chest.
I had never seen her before.
But I knew immediately.
Laura.
On the back of the photograph was a handwritten message.
*Marcus, she didn't die.*
My heart stopped.
Beneath it:
*And she has been trying to find her son for sixteen years.*
Michael stood behind me.
“Dad?””
I turned.
He saw the photograph.
“Is that my mother?””
I couldn't answer.
Then another line caught my eye.
*Ask Sarah what happened at the hospital.*
I looked toward Sarah.
She had gone completely white.
“Sarah.””
She didn't respond.
“What happened at the hospital?””
Her lips trembled.
“I can't tell you.””
“Tell me.””
“I can't.””
“Why?””
She looked at Michael.
May you like
Then at me.
“Because I wasn't the only person who took a baby that night.””
