Chapter 3: The Woman From The Past
I walked outside the chapel to answer the call.
Every instinct told me not to.
But every instinct that had kept me alive told me something else.
Listen.
“Who are you?”” I asked.
The woman on the phone breathed shakily.
“My name is Amelia Reed. Twelve years ago, I worked for Mercer Holdings.””
I looked through the chapel doors.
Daniel stood inside.
Watching.
Waiting.
“What happened to Jonathan?”” I asked.
Silence.
Then:
“He didn’t die.””
The world seemed to tilt.
I gripped the phone tighter.
“What?””
“He disappeared.””
My stomach tightened.
“But the death certificate—”
“Was fake.””
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
Another lie.
Another carefully built story.
“How do you know?””
“Because I helped create it.””
That sentence hit harder than anything else.
“You helped?””
“I was twenty-six. I was young. I was scared. Charles Mercer threatened my family.””
I heard her crying.
“I thought if I stayed quiet, nobody would get hurt.””
I looked back at the chapel.
Daniel was no longer watching me.
He was speaking urgently to his father.
They knew something was happening.
“Amelia,” I said, “why are you calling me now?””
“Because I saw your wedding announcement.””
A pause.
“And I saw the woman in the newspaper photo.””
“What woman?””
“Jonathan’s wife.””
I froze.
“Jonathan was married?””
“Yes.””
My fingers went cold.
“Where is she?””
“She’s been looking for him for twelve years.””
The chapel doors opened behind me.
Daniel stepped outside.
“Who are you talking to?””
I ended the call.
Not because I was afraid.
Because I finally understood.
Daniel wasn’t the only person hiding something.
He walked toward me slowly.
“Claire.””
I said nothing.
His voice softened.
“You don’t know what you’re getting into.””
I smiled.
“That’s becoming your favorite sentence.””
“This isn’t a game.””
“No.””
I looked at him.
“It’s your life falling apart.””
For a moment, anger flashed across his face.
Real anger.
Then it disappeared.
“I loved you.””
The words almost made me laugh.
“Did you?””
“Yes.””
“You loved having me.””
His silence answered.
I stepped closer.
“You loved deciding where I went. Who I spoke to. What I wore.””
“That’s not true.””
“You loved a version of me that couldn’t fight back.””
Daniel looked away.
That tiny movement told me everything.
A person who loved me would have looked at my pain.
Daniel looked away from it.
The chapel doors opened again.
Rebecca walked outside.
She held a folder.
“Claire.””
Her expression was serious.
“We have a problem.””
I looked at her.
“What?””
She glanced at Daniel.
Then back at me.
“The federal investigator just found something.””
“What?””
Rebecca opened the folder.
Inside was a printed email.
One sentence was highlighted.
My blood turned cold.
Because it was written by Daniel.
And it was dated two weeks before we met.
May you like
The subject line read:
*Project Claire Bennett.*
