Chapter 5: Room 317
Margaret was taken to the emergency room at St. Mary's Hospital.
The doctors told me she had suffered several broken ribs and a serious head injury.
She was alive, but unconscious.
I sat beside her bed for twenty minutes, listening to the steady rhythm of the heart monitor.
Then a nurse approached.
"Mrs. Carter?""
I looked up.
"Yes?""
"Someone left this for you at the reception desk.""
She handed me a white envelope.
My name was written across it.
Inside was a single sheet of paper.
Stop looking for Claire. You have already lost one husband. Don't lose your life too.
I folded the note.
Then I looked at Margaret.
Her face was bruised.
A bandage covered her forehead.
Despite everything she had hidden, I couldn't leave her alone.
But I also couldn't ignore the possibility that Daniel was somewhere waiting for me.
I took out the brass key.
Room 317.
C.B.
I called a taxi and gave the driver an address printed on the back of the key.
It led to a storage facility outside the city.
The place was nearly empty when I arrived.
A security guard sat behind a glass window, watching television.
"Can I help you?"" he asked.
I held up the key.
"I'm looking for unit 317.""
He glanced at it.
"That's a private unit.""
"Who owns it?""
"Claire Bennett.""
My heart skipped.
"Is she still a customer?""
He shrugged.
"Pays every month. Never comes in herself.""
"Who does?""
"Someone with a written authorization.""
He looked at me more closely.
"Are you family?""
I hesitated.
"Yes.""
He studied my face before handing me a clipboard.
"Sign here.""
I signed.
Then he pointed toward a long corridor.
"Third row. Left side.""
The facility smelled of dust and cold metal.
I walked slowly, counting the numbered doors.
314.
315.
316.
317.
I inserted the key.
The lock clicked.
Inside, I found dozens of cardboard boxes, a desk, an old laptop, and a wall covered with photographs.
My breath caught.
There was Claire.
At a coffee shop.
Outside a grocery store.
Walking through a park.
And in one photograph, standing outside my house.
I stepped closer.
The photograph had been taken two months earlier.
Claire was wearing a red scarf.
She was looking directly at the camera.
On the desk sat a sealed envelope.
For Emily Carter.
I opened it.
Inside was a letter.
Emily,
If you're reading this, Daniel has probably disappeared, and Margaret has finally decided to tell you part of the truth.
I am sorry.
You deserve to know why I stayed away.
Daniel did not kill me. Richard Lawson did.
I stopped reading.
My hands began to shake.
The letter continued.
Seven years ago, I discovered that Richard was using Daniel's construction company to launder money. I confronted him. He arranged a car accident and paid someone to confirm my death.
I survived, but I was warned that if I returned, Daniel would be killed.
I spent years gathering evidence.
Then, three months ago, Daniel contacted me.
He told me he had discovered something about Dr. Victor Hale. Something that connected the hospital, Richard, and the people behind the company.
I turned the page.
There is one thing you must understand. Daniel wasn't given the drug because he was sick. He was given it because he was about to reveal the identity of the person funding the entire operation.
A floorboard creaked behind me.
I spun around.
A woman stood in the doorway.
Long brown hair.
Red scarf.
The same face from the photographs.
Claire Bennett.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then she closed the door.
"You're Emily.""
I nodded.
"You're alive.""
She gave a tired smile.
"Unfortunately, that's been a problem for quite some time.""
I wanted to scream at her.
I wanted to ask why she had stayed away.
Instead, I asked the only question that mattered.
"Where is Daniel?""
Claire's expression changed.
"Did Richard tell you he's alive?""
"Yes.""
"Then Richard wants you to believe he still has control.""
"What does that mean?""
Claire walked to the desk and opened a drawer.
She removed a small digital recorder.
"Daniel contacted me two days before he collapsed. He had evidence that Richard was preparing to transfer ownership of the company to an offshore group.""
"Why would they want him dead?""
"Because Daniel was the only person who knew where the original records were hidden.""
"Could Dr. Hale have arranged his collapse?""
Claire nodded.
"He supplied the medication. But the person who ordered it wasn't Richard.""
I felt my stomach tighten.
"Who?""
Claire looked directly at me.
"Your husband.""
I stared at her.
"What?""
"Daniel arranged the entire disappearance.""
I shook my head.
"No. He was buried alive!""
"Because something went wrong.""
She pressed the recorder.
Daniel's voice filled the storage unit.
"Claire, if this works, they'll believe I'm dead. I'll have enough time to expose them.""
A second voice answered.
Dr. Hale.
"And if the drug doesn't wear off?""
Daniel replied.
"Then you have to bring me back.""
The recording stopped.
I looked at Claire.
"Why would he do that?""
"Because Richard had threatened you.""
She opened another folder.
Inside were photographs of my house, my workplace, and even the café where I met my friends.
One photograph showed me sleeping in our bedroom.
Taken through the window.
I covered my mouth.
Claire continued.
"Daniel believed the only way to protect you was to disappear. He wanted Richard to think he had succeeded. But Hale betrayed him.""
"Then who buried him?""
Claire's face became pale.
"Richard's men. They believed Daniel was unconscious and would never wake up.""
I felt tears running down my face.
"Where is he now?""
Claire hesitated.
"I don't know exactly.""
"You're lying.""
"I'm not.""
She walked toward the laptop.
"Before Daniel disappeared, he sent me one final message. He said if anything went wrong, I should look for the place where he first learned to build things.""
I frowned.
"His childhood home?""
Claire nodded.
"His father's old workshop.""
I knew the place.
Daniel had shown me photographs once.
It was a small wooden building behind an abandoned farmhouse in Connecticut.
I reached for my phone.
Claire suddenly grabbed my wrist.
"Don't call anyone.""
"Why?""
"Because your phone has been monitored.""
She removed a small device from her pocket.
A signal detector.
It began flashing.
Claire looked at me.
"Emily, how long have you been carrying that phone?""
"Since the funeral.""
She stared at the screen.
Then she whispered something that made my blood turn cold.
"Someone has been listening to every conversation you've had.""
The laptop suddenly chimed.
A new message appeared.
Sender: Daniel Carter.
Subject: EMILY, DON'T TRUST CLAIRE.
Claire stepped backward.
I looked at the screen.
The message contained only one sentence.
She wasn't the one who survived the accident.
Then a second line appeared.
The woman standing beside you is not my first wife.
I slowly turned toward Claire.
She wasn't looking at me anymore.
May you like
She was staring at the laptop.
And smiling.
