Chapter 2 - Three Days Before the Mountain
Three days earlier, Emma had believed the most dangerous problem in her life was her husband’s silence.
Julian Vale had always been charming in public. He remembered birthdays, sent flowers without being reminded and held Emma’s hand whenever cameras were nearby. As the son of wealthy property developer Helena Vale, he had grown up understanding that appearances were not a reflection of life.
They were a replacement for it.
Inside their home, Julian had changed during the final months of Emma’s pregnancy.
He took his phone into the bathroom. He returned late from meetings that did not appear on his calendar. When Emma entered a room unexpectedly, he sometimes stopped speaking in the middle of a sentence.
She had asked him whether there was another woman.
He had almost laughed.
“You think too much when you’re tired.”
“I’m not imagining this.”
“You’re eight months pregnant. Everything feels more intense.”
It was not an answer.
Emma stood in the nursery doorway while Julian adjusted his cuff links in the mirror.
The room was painted pale green. A white crib stood beneath paper clouds Emma had cut by hand. On the dresser rested a framed ultrasound picture and a pair of tiny yellow socks.
“We leave for the mountain lodge tomorrow,” Julian said. “Try to enjoy it.”
“Your mother planned the trip without asking me.”
“She thought fresh air would help.”
“Helena has never once cared whether something helped me.”
Julian’s reflection hardened.
“She raised you.”
“She controlled me.”
“She gave you everything.”
Emma folded her arms over her stomach.
Helena Vale had adopted Emma after what she called a family tragedy. According to the story repeated throughout Emma’s childhood, Emma’s birth parents had died in a boating accident near Lake Rowan. Helena, a distant cousin, had stepped forward to provide a home.
Emma had once considered herself fortunate.
As an adult, she understood that Helena’s generosity always came with a price.
Helena chose Emma’s schools. Her friends. Her university. Even Emma’s first job had been arranged through one of Helena’s companies. When Emma married Julian, Helena had cried with joy.
Only years later did Emma realize she had married the one person who could keep her permanently inside Helena’s reach.
“I don’t want to go,” Emma said.
“It’s two nights.”
“I have an appointment with Dr. Patel.”
“It was moved.”
Emma turned sharply.
“What?”
Julian continued fixing his cuffs.
“Mother called the clinic.”
“She had no right.”
“The doctor said Monday was fine.”
“You moved my medical appointment without asking me?”
Julian faced her.
His expression was calm, but there was impatience beneath it.
“You’ve been anxious. The trip will be good for you.”
Emma looked at the man she had married and felt something unfamiliar settle inside her.
Fear.
Not immediate fear. Not the kind caused by a raised hand or an open threat.
It was the slower fear of realizing decisions about her life were being made in rooms she was not allowed to enter.
That evening, Helena arrived carrying a silver gift box.
She was sixty-two, elegant and composed, with smooth gray-blonde hair and a voice that never needed to rise. She kissed Emma’s cheek and placed the box on the dining table.
“For the baby.”
Inside was a hand-sewn blanket embroidered with the initials E.V.
“It’s beautiful,” Emma said.
“I used the same pattern from your childhood blanket.”
Emma ran her fingers across the stitching.
“My childhood blanket was blue.”
Helena paused for less than a second.
“You had several.”
“No. I only remember one.”
“Memories are unreliable at your age when the event happened.”
Julian entered with drinks before Emma could ask another question.
During dinner, Helena spoke about the mountain lodge, the weather and a photographer who would arrive on the second day to capture family pictures.
Emma barely listened.
She was watching Helena’s handbag.
A key ring hung from an interior pocket. Attached to it was a small brass key Emma recognized.
It belonged to the locked storage room in Helena’s old family house.
The room had been forbidden throughout Emma’s childhood.
After dinner, Helena and Julian stepped onto the terrace to speak privately. Emma carried the gift box upstairs, then returned quietly.
Through the glass door, she heard Helena say, “She has started remembering.”
Julian glanced toward the house.
“She hasn’t remembered enough.”
“She asked about the blanket.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“It means the pregnancy is affecting her memory. The doctor warned us this could happen.”
Emma held her breath.
Julian lowered his voice, but she heard the next sentence.
“What do you want me to do?”
Helena stared out over the dark garden.
“Take her to the lodge.”
“And then?”
“Make sure she stops asking questions.”
Emma stepped backward before either of them could see her.
Her heart beat painfully beneath her ribs.
Upstairs, she locked the bedroom door and searched Helena’s gift box.
At first, she found nothing.
Then her fingers pressed against an uneven section beneath the velvet lining.
She lifted the fabric.
A second key was hidden underneath.
It was old, iron and marked with the number seventeen.
Emma photographed it with her phone.
Then she searched the number together with Helena’s family name.
The results showed a property Helena had owned for more than thirty years.
Storage Unit 17, Rowan County.
Near the lake where Emma’s parents had supposedly died.
May you like
She booked a car for the following morning.
She did not tell Julian where she was going.
