Chapter 8 - The Woman Before Emily
Her name was Sarah Whitmore.
Claire found her within an hour.
Or rather, she found traces of her.
College records.
A nursing license.
A wedding announcement that never resulted in a recorded marriage.
A missing person notice from eleven years earlier.
Emily stared at the old photograph.
Sarah resembled her.
Not exactly.
But enough to make Emily’s skin crawl.
Same brown hair.
Similar height.
Athletic build.
No known chronic illness.
No siblings.
Parents deceased before thirty.
A modest inheritance.
Claire whispered, “Family, health, financial and hereditary requirements.”
Emily looked at her.
“You think Diane had a profile.”
“I think Northbridge had one.”
They searched deeper.
Sarah Whitmore disappeared two months before the date Mark claimed he first met Emily.
Her car was found at an airport parking facility.
No evidence of foul play.
Authorities believed she may have left voluntarily.
Her bank accounts were untouched.
No verified sightings followed.
Emily’s throat tightened.
“What happened to her?”
Claire shook her head.
The unknown sender had provided nothing else.
Emily replied.
Who are you?
No response.
She sent another.
What happened to Sarah?
Nothing.
Richard called again.
Emily told him about the photograph.
He went silent.
“You know her.”
“No.”
“That pause says otherwise.”
“I know the name.”
“How?”
“Diane mentioned Sarah years ago.”
“When?”
“When she first contacted me about Mark.”
“What did she say?”
Richard sounded uncomfortable.
“She said Mark had been engaged.”
Emily stared at the screen.
“Mark told me he’d never been engaged.”
“Maybe he didn’t consider it official.”
“She disappeared.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“You expect me to believe you?”
“I can only tell you what I know.”
Emily hung up.
She no longer had patience for partial truths.
By afternoon, Claire had persuaded Emily to sleep.
She managed forty minutes.
When she woke, Noah was beside Claire on the sofa.
Safe.
Content.
Emily watched them and realized how profoundly different safety felt when she no longer had to negotiate for it.
Her phone held seventy-three messages from Mark.
The tone had evolved.
Please call.
I’m worried.
Mom left.
Then:
You are kidnapping my son.
Then:
If you don’t come home, I will take action.
Then:
Claire is poisoning you against me.
Then:
Richard is manipulating you.
Finally:
Whatever he told you about Sarah is a lie.
Emily sat upright.
Mark knew about Sarah.
She called him.
He answered immediately.
“Where is Noah?”
“Safe.”
“With Claire?”
“Tell me about Sarah Whitmore.”
Silence.
“Mark.”
“She was someone I dated.”
“You were engaged.”
“Briefly.”
“Why did you tell me you’d never been engaged?”
“It didn’t matter.”
“She disappeared.”
Mark exhaled sharply.
“She left me.”
“Where did she go?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you report her missing?”
“Her friends did.”
“Did Diane know her?”
“Yes.”
“Did Northbridge Family Services investigate her?”
Mark did not answer.
Emily’s voice became cold.
“Did your mother select Sarah for you?”
“That’s insane.”
“Did she select me?”
“No.”
“Then why is my name on a candidate report?”
“She runs background checks.”
“On girlfriends?”
“She was protective.”
Emily laughed without humor.
“She hired a company to evaluate whether I met hereditary requirements.”
“You’re twisting things.”
“What hereditary requirements?”
“I don’t know.”
“You always know just enough to participate and never enough to be responsible.”
“That isn’t fair.”
“No, Mark. Fair was over when you hit me.”
He became quiet.
Emily continued.
“What happened to Sarah?”
“She left.”
“Why?”
“She found out about Richard.”
Emily gripped the phone.
“Eleven years ago?”
“Yes.”
“But Richard claims he didn’t know you existed until five years ago.”
Mark said nothing.
There it was.
Another contradiction.
“Mark?”
“I have to go.”
“Don’t you dare.”
The call ended.
Emily looked at Claire.
“Richard lied.”
Claire frowned.
“About what?”
“He said he learned Mark existed five years ago. Sarah knew about Richard eleven years ago.”
Claire immediately called him.
No answer.
Again.
No answer.
Third time.
Disconnected.
Then Emily received another email from the unknown sender.
This time only text.
Richard lies better than Diane.
Emily replied instantly.
Who are you?
The response came.
Someone who survived them.
Emily’s heartbeat accelerated.
Sarah?
Three dots appeared.
Then disappeared.
A new message arrived.
Do not trust Richard.
Do not trust Mark.
Do not trust Diane.
Emily typed:
Can I trust you?
The response took almost a minute.
No.
At least I am telling you that.
Emily stared at the sentence.
Then another appeared.
If you want the truth about why Diane chose you, open the storage unit at 418 Mason Street.
Unit 27.
The code is Noah’s birthday.
Claire read over her shoulder.
“That could be a trap.”
“Yes.”
“So we’re not going.”
May you like
Emily looked at her.
“We’re absolutely going.”
