Chapter 6: The Woman Who Knew
I didn't tell Marcus about the message immediately.
That was my first mistake.
My second was thinking I could still protect myself by keeping secrets.
I stared at the photograph until my hands began to shake.
Thomas was sitting in a car.
Alive.
His beard was longer.
His face was thinner.
But it was him.
There was no mistaking those eyes.
Victor saw my expression.
“What happened?””
I locked the phone.
“Nothing.””
He didn't believe me.
Neither did Marcus.
But before either could question me, the station doors opened.
A woman walked in.
She was in her sixties, dressed in a navy coat, with silver hair pulled into a neat bun.
She carried a cardboard box.
She approached the desk.
“I need to speak with Elena Morgan.””
Marcus stood.
“Who are you?””
The woman looked at me.
“My name is Margaret Hale.””
Victor went completely still.
I looked between them.
“Hale?””
She nodded.
“I was married to Victor's father.””
Victor whispered, “Margaret.””
She looked at him.
“I've been trying to find you for twenty-seven years.””
He stepped forward.
“You knew where I was.””
“No.””
“You're lying.””
Margaret set the box on the desk.
“I knew where Diane wanted me to believe you were.””
Victor stared at her.
Margaret opened the box.
Inside were dozens of letters.
All addressed to Thomas.
My throat tightened.
“Why do you have those?””
“Because Thomas sent them to me.””
Victor picked one up.
His hands trembled.
“He contacted you?””
“Every few months.””
“Why?””
Margaret looked at me.
“Because he needed someone Diane couldn't reach.””
I moved closer.
“What did he tell you?””
Margaret hesitated.
“That he was afraid his wife was being watched.””
I frowned.
“Thomas was afraid?””
“He said Diane had people following him.””
Victor opened another letter.
Margaret continued.
“He also said something else.””
“What?””
“That his marriage was in danger.””
My heart stopped.
“What kind of danger?””
Margaret looked directly at me.
“The kind that ends with someone disappearing.””
I couldn't speak.
Marcus took the letter from Victor.
“Why didn't you bring these to the police?””
Margaret looked exhausted.
“Because Thomas told me not to.””
“Why?””
“Because he said the police had already been compromised.””
Marcus's expression hardened.
“That's a serious accusation.””
“I know.””
She opened another envelope.
“This came two days before the crash.””
She handed it to me.
The handwriting was Thomas's.
Margaret,
If anything happens to me, find Elena before Diane does.
My eyes burned.
I kept reading.
She doesn't know the truth about her father.
I stopped.
My father.
The man I had believed died when I was eight.
I looked up.
“What truth?””
Margaret sat down.
“Your father didn't die in an accident.””
The room went silent.
I shook my head.
“My mother told me he died driving home from work.””
“He didn't.””
“How do you know?””
Margaret looked at Victor.
“Because Diane killed him.””
Victor closed his eyes.
I couldn't breathe.
“No.””
Margaret's voice softened.
“Your father discovered the money Diane was stealing from the family.””
“That was twenty years ago.””
“Twenty-four.””
“And Thomas knew?””
“He found the records years later.””
I stared at the letters.
Everything suddenly connected.
The hidden room.
The photographs.
The forged documents.
Victor.
Diane.
Thomas's fear.
But one question remained.
“Why did Thomas marry me?””
Margaret's expression changed.
“He didn't know who you were.””
“What?””
“Not at first.””
Victor looked at me.
“Thomas believed Diane had stopped looking for your father's family.””
“She hadn't.””
“No.””
Margaret opened the box and removed a newspaper clipping.
It showed my father.
Beside him was another photograph.
A much younger Diane.
The headline read:
*LOCAL CONTRACTOR FOUND DEAD IN SINGLE-CAR CRASH.*
My fingers went numb.
“She married your father because she wanted access to his company,” Margaret said.
“She failed.””
“So she waited.””
“For what?””
“For you to become old enough to inherit what he left behind.””
I looked at the property deed.
“What did he leave?””
Margaret's eyes met mine.
“Not money.””
She reached into the box.
She pulled out a small envelope.
“This.””
Inside was a key.
But not a house key.
A bank key.
Stamped with a number.
“Your father kept something in a private vault.””
I stared at it.
“Why didn't anyone tell me?””
“Because Diane spent twenty-four years making sure you never knew.””
Victor leaned against the table.
“And Thomas found out.””
Margaret nodded.
“He discovered the vault six months before the crash.””
My voice barely came out.
“What was inside?””
Margaret looked at the children sleeping in the next room.
“Proof.””
“Proof of what?””
“That Diane didn't just steal from your father.””
She paused.
“She arranged the crash.””
My body went cold.
Marcus stood.
“Whose crash?””
Margaret looked at me.
“Your father's.””
Then she added quietly,
“And Thomas's.””
I stared at her.
“You're saying Thomas's crash wasn't an accident.””
“No.””
“Then why is he alive in that photograph?””
Margaret's face went pale.
She hadn't seen it.
I showed her the picture.
Her hand flew to her mouth.
“Oh God.””
Victor stepped closer.
“Margaret, what?””
She stared at Thomas sitting in the car.
Then she looked at the timestamp.
Her voice became a whisper.
“That photograph was taken yesterday.””
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“Yesterday?””
Margaret nodded.
“Thomas sent me a message last night.””
“What did it say?””
She looked toward the station windows.
Then back at me.
“I thought it was impossible.””
“What did it say?””
Margaret swallowed.
“It said…”
Her phone began ringing.
She looked at the screen.
The caller ID showed a number she had saved under one name.
*THOMAS.*
No one moved.
Then the call stopped.
A second later, my phone rang.
The same number appeared.
Victor whispered, “Don't answer.””
But I already had.
“Hello?””
For several seconds, there was only breathing.
Then a man's voice came through.
Weak.
Ragged.
But unmistakable.
“Elena?””
My knees nearly gave out.
“Thomas?””
A long silence.
Then he said,
“Whatever Diane tells you…”
His breathing became frantic.
“…don't let her take the children.””
May you like
The line went dead.
And immediately, every light in the police station went out.
