Chapter 4 - What Emma Remembered
Emma was sitting up when Rachel returned.
Her stuffed giraffe was tucked beneath her arm.
Rachel approached slowly.
"Hey, sweetheart."
Emma reached for her.
Rachel hugged her carefully.
"I'm here."
Emma whispered, "Mommy?"
"Yes?"
"Are we going home?"
Rachel looked at the doctor.
The doctor nodded.
"She can go home later today, but she needs rest."
Rachel kissed Emma's forehead.
"We'll go home."
Emma looked relieved.
Then she whispered, "Not Grandma's house."
"No."
"Never."
Rachel's chest tightened.
"Emma, why were you scared of Grandma?"
Emma looked down.
"She said the chair belonged to Aunt Vanessa."
Rachel went still.
"What chair?"
"The big chair."
"Where?"
"In the old house."
Rachel exchanged a glance with the doctor.
Emma continued.
"Grandma said Mommy took it."
Rachel's heart began pounding.
"Mommy took what?"
"The thing in the chair."
"What thing?"
Emma shook her head.
"I don't know."
Rachel took out her phone.
She showed Emma the photograph of the old dining room.
Emma immediately pointed.
"That one."
Rachel stared.
"The red chair?"
Emma nodded.
"Grandma doesn't want you to open it."
Rachel's breathing stopped.
"What do you mean?"
Emma hugged the giraffe.
"She said there was a secret inside."
Rachel stood.
The room suddenly felt too small.
She remembered the metal box.
The legal documents.
The photograph.
The chair.
Everything connected.
But how?
Her phone vibrated.
A message from an unknown number appeared.
You found the study.
Rachel typed.
Who are you?
This time, an answer came.
Someone who tried to warn your father.
Rachel's fingers went cold.
What happened to him?
The reply took several seconds.
He didn't die knowing the truth.
Rachel stared at the screen.
Then another message appeared.
But he died trying to protect you from it.
Rachel looked at Emma.
Her daughter was watching her.
"Mommy?"
Rachel put the phone away.
"Everything is okay."
But she knew she was lying.
That evening, Rachel returned to the old house.
She stood in the dining room.
The red chair was still there.
It looked ordinary.
Old wood.
Faded fabric.
Nothing unusual.
Rachel touched the back.
Nothing happened.
She checked underneath.
Nothing.
Then she noticed a small scratch on the floor.
The chair had been moved recently.
Rachel pulled it away from the table.
Something fell from underneath.
A tiny brass key.
Rachel picked it up.
There was a number engraved on it.
17.
She searched the room.
Nothing.
Then she remembered the old storage room downstairs.
There had always been seventeen lockers along the wall.
Rachel went downstairs.
The lights flickered.
She counted.
One.
Two.
Three.
At seventeen, she stopped.
The key fit.
Inside was a small envelope.
On the front was another message.
For the daughter who was never supposed to know.
Rachel opened it.
And found a birth certificate.
Not Emma's.
Hers.
The name of her mother was Margaret Carter.
The name of her father was Daniel Carter.
But underneath was another document.
A second birth record.
May you like
Rachel stared at it.
The mother listed there was not Margaret.
