Chapter 2 - The Photograph in the Drawer
Three hours earlier, Emily had believed the worst thing that could happen was another argument with Ryan.
She had been wrong.
She sat at the edge of the bed, staring through the enormous bedroom windows.
Morning sunlight poured across the cream carpet.
Everything looked peaceful.
That was what frightened her most.
The house always looked beautiful after something terrible happened.
Ryan had a talent for making chaos disappear.
A broken lamp would be replaced.
A damaged door would be repaired.
A bruise would be hidden beneath clothing.
An argument would become a misunderstanding.
And somehow, Emily always became the problem.
Ryan had perfected the sentence.
“You're too emotional.”
He said it whenever she cried.
“You're imagining things.”
He said it whenever she questioned him.
“You're making me look bad.”
He said it whenever she told anyone she was unhappy.
And Linda always agreed.
Emily rested a hand against her stomach.
Seven months.
Seven months of telling herself that things would change when the baby arrived.
She had believed motherhood would force Ryan to grow up.
She had believed having a child would make Linda softer.
She had believed her father would understand if she finally told him everything.
But fear had always stopped her.
James Bennett had spent his entire adult life protecting people.
Emily knew what he would do if he learned the truth.
That was why she had hidden it.
Until the photograph.
She found it in the bottom drawer of Ryan's desk.
It showed her father standing beside a much younger man.
Ryan.
Emily stared at the photograph.
Ryan was perhaps twenty years old.
Beside him stood James.
And between them was another man.
A man Emily had never seen before.
On the back of the photograph was a date.
Twenty years earlier.
Underneath it, someone had written six words.
HE KNOWS WHAT HAPPENED TO HER.
Emily's fingers trembled.
Who was “her”?
She turned the photograph over again.
There was a second line.
ASK JAMES ABOUT THE BENNETT FILE.
The bedroom door opened.
Emily quickly put the photograph behind her back.
Ryan walked in.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
His eyes narrowed.
“You're hiding something.”
Emily forced herself to smile.
“I was looking for a sweater.”
Ryan walked closer.
“Where is it?”
“I don't know.”
He stared at her.
Then at the drawer.
“What were you looking for?”
“Nothing important.”
Ryan smiled.
It wasn't a kind smile.
“That's not what I asked.”
Emily lowered her eyes.
“I was just looking around.”
Ryan reached toward the drawer.
Emily instinctively pulled the photograph closer to her body.
He stopped.
“What is that?”
“Nothing.”
“Emily.”
She didn't answer.
Ryan grabbed for it.
Emily pulled away.
The photograph fell.
It landed face up.
Ryan saw it.
For the first time that morning, his arrogance disappeared.
His eyes fixed on the image.
“You shouldn't have found that.”
Emily stared at him.
“What is this?”
Ryan didn't answer.
“Who is she?”
His face hardened.
“Give me the photograph.”
“Who is she?”
“Emily.”
“Who is she?”
Ryan stepped closer.
“You don't need to know.”
That answer terrified her more than anything else.
May you like
Because Ryan wasn't angry.
He was afraid.
