Chapter 7 - The Intruder Behind the Study Door
Diane dropped the needle into the sink.
Mark released Natalie and ran toward the hallway.
Diane followed.
Natalie pressed one hand over the wound near her collarbone and went after them.
The study door stood open.
A red indicator light blinked above the frame.
Mark entered first.
The desk drawers had been pulled out. Files covered the floor. The silver box sat open beneath the window.
The room was empty.
“The window,” Diane said.
One pane had been raised several inches.
Mark crossed the room and looked outside.
“No one.”
Diane picked up the silver box.
Her hands moved quickly through the papers inside.
“What’s missing?” Mark asked.
She did not answer.
“What’s missing?”
“The Anna file.”
Natalie remained in the doorway.
Diane looked at her.
“You arranged this.”
“I was in the kitchen.”
“You spoke to someone today.”
“No.”
“Your car disappeared from the tracker.”
“I bought a dress.”
Diane crossed the room and slapped her.
Natalie struck the doorframe.
Mark did nothing.
Diane grabbed her face.
“Who did you meet?”
“No one.”
“Rebecca?”
Natalie’s expression betrayed her.
Diane’s grip tightened.
“So she finally crawled out of hiding.”
Mark stared at his mother.
“Rebecca Ellis is alive?”
Diane released Natalie.
“That does not concern you.”
“You said she died.”
“I said she was no longer a problem.”
Natalie looked between them.
Mark truly had not known.
For the first time, a crack appeared in the wall between mother and son.
“You told me Natalie had no family,” Mark said.
“She has no family that matters.”
“You made me believe Rebecca was dead.”
“I gave you the information you needed.”
“You lied.”
Diane turned on him.
“And you have benefited from every lie I told.”
Mark’s face hardened.
Diane pointed toward Natalie.
“Search her.”
Mark hesitated.
“Search her.”
He grabbed Natalie’s arms.
She fought him, but Diane joined in. They emptied her pockets, removed her shoes, and tore the lining from the new dress.
The memory card remained beneath the insole of the old shoe upstairs.
They found nothing.
Diane pushed Natalie into the desk chair.
“You are not leaving this house before Friday.”
“I won’t go to the clinic.”
“You will.”
“I know about the embryo.”
Mark looked at Diane again.
“You told her?”
“No,” Diane said.
Natalie continued.
“I know Mark cannot have children naturally. I know about the trial when I was nineteen. I know about Anna.”
Mark’s face turned white.
Diane opened a drawer.
Inside lay a black pistol.
Natalie’s breath stopped.
Diane placed the weapon on the desk.
“You know fragments,” she said. “Fragments are dangerous because they make foolish people believe they understand the whole.”
“What happened to Anna?”
“Anna was weak.”
“Did you kill her?”
Mark whispered, “Natalie, stop.”
She ignored him.
“Did you put needles in her too?”
Diane’s mouth curved.
“She required stronger lessons than you.”
Natalie looked at the silver box.
“What was inside her?”
Diane stepped closer.
“The future of this family.”
“Where is she?”
Diane leaned down until their faces were inches apart.
“Ask your husband.”
Natalie turned toward Mark.
He stared at the floor.
“Mark?”
His throat moved.
“I don’t know.”
“You were married to her.”
“It wasn’t legal.”
“What does that mean?”
“It was a private ceremony.”
“You lived with her?”
“For eight months.”
“And she disappeared?”
Mark’s voice grew quieter.
“She ran away.”
Diane laughed.
“She did not run.”
“Mother.”
“She crawled.”
Mark closed his eyes.
Diane’s voice remained calm.
“She made it as far as the west gate before the bleeding began.”
Natalie felt the room tilt.
“What did you do to her?”
Diane straightened.
“What was necessary.”
A floorboard creaked overhead.
Everyone looked toward the ceiling.
Another sound followed.
A drawer closing in the upstairs bedroom.
Someone was still inside the house.
Mark grabbed the pistol.
Diane moved toward the hallway.
Natalie saw her chance.
She kicked the study door shut between them and turned the lock.
Mark shouted from the other side.
Natalie ran to the window.
A rope hung from the outer sill.
Below, Rebecca stood in the garden, holding the missing Anna file.
“Jump,” she called.
Natalie climbed onto the ledge.
The study door shook under Mark’s shoulder.
Two floors below, stone paving waited beneath her.
“I can’t.”
Rebecca pointed toward the rope.
“You can.”
The doorframe cracked.
Natalie grabbed the rope and lowered herself outside.
Her injured chest burned.
Behind her, the window opened.
Mark reached through and caught the back of her blouse.
The fabric tightened around her throat.
Natalie screamed.
Then another hand appeared beside his.
Diane held the long sewing needle.
She drove it into Natalie’s shoulder.
May you like
Natalie lost her grip.
And fell.
