Chapter 2 - The Question Lily Was Afraid to Answer
The hospital waiting room smelled like disinfectant and burnt coffee.
Rachel sat with Emma's stuffed giraffe in her lap.
She had no idea when she had picked it up.
Every few seconds she looked toward the emergency-room doors.
A doctor had told her Emma was stable.
Stable.
Rachel had heard the word enough times to know it was supposed to calm her.
It didn't.
Her phone vibrated again.
This time it was Lily.
Not a message.
A call.
Rachel answered immediately.
"Lily?"
For several seconds, there was only breathing.
Then a tiny voice said, "Aunt Rachel?"
"Yes."
"Are you mad at me?"
Rachel closed her eyes.
"No."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
A pause.
Then Lily whispered, "I didn't want Emma to sit there."
Rachel frowned.
"Why?"
"Because Grandma said the chair was important."
Rachel looked around the waiting room.
"What does that mean?"
"I don't know."
"Why did Grandma say that?"
Another pause.
"Because that's where Aunt Vanessa used to sit."
Rachel's stomach tightened.
"Used to?"
"Before you came back."
Rachel sat up.
"Before I came back from where?"
Lily suddenly became silent.
"Lily?"
"I have to go."
"Wait."
The call ended.
Rachel immediately called back.
No answer.
She called again.
Nothing.
A nurse approached.
"Ms. Carter?"
Rachel stood.
"Yes?"
"The doctor is ready to speak with you."
Rachel followed her.
Before entering the room, she looked at her phone.
A new message had appeared.
Unknown number: She remembers more than they think.
Rachel stared at the words.
Then another message appeared.
Unknown number: But you need to find out what happened before Emma was born.
Rachel's blood ran cold.
Before Emma was born?
What could possibly connect her four-year-old daughter to something that happened before she was even alive?
Rachel entered the examination room.
The doctor explained that Emma would need observation.
Rachel listened carefully.
But her mind was somewhere else.
When she returned to the waiting room, Margaret was standing there.
Rachel stopped.
"You came."
Margaret nodded.
"I came because I'm your mother."
Rachel stared at her.
"Then tell me the truth."
Margaret sighed.
"About what?"
"Last Tuesday."
Margaret's expression changed.
Rachel noticed immediately.
"You know what I'm talking about."
Margaret looked away.
"Rachel, you are exhausted."
"Don't do that."
"Do what?"
"Treat me like I'm too emotional to understand what's happening."
Margaret looked back at her.
"You always were sensitive."
Rachel laughed bitterly.
"That's your answer?"
Margaret stepped closer.
"Your father was the same way."
Rachel froze.
Her father had been dead for eight years.
"What does Dad have to do with this?"
Margaret didn't answer.
Rachel's phone vibrated.
A photograph appeared.
It showed a dining room.
An old one.
Rachel recognized it immediately.
Her childhood home.
The same table.
The same chairs.
And one chair positioned at the head of the table.
A red circle had been drawn around it.
Underneath was a message.
That's the chair.
Rachel stared at the photograph.
Then she looked at Margaret.
"Why is someone sending me pictures of our old house?"
Margaret's face had gone completely pale.
"Because they want you to destroy this family."
Rachel stepped closer.
"Maybe this family is already destroyed."
Margaret whispered, "You don't know what you're looking for."
"Then tell me."
Margaret shook her head.
"I can't."
"Can't?"
"Not yet."
Rachel stared at her.
"Why not?"
May you like
Margaret looked toward the hospital doors.
"Because if you find the truth now, you won't be able to protect Emma from it."
