Chương 7
"Rachel knew."
"She didn't know this room."
Marcus looked at the documents scattered across the desk.
The medical form.
The photographs.
The notes Claire had written.
His first instinct was to gather everything.
His second was to leave it.
Both instincts came from fear.
He hated that he could no longer tell which one was protecting him and which one was making things worse.
"We need to go," Maya said.
Marcus looked at her.
"You just said you don't know who knows we're here."
"Exactly."
She began putting the documents back into the folder.
"We shouldn't stay somewhere predictable."
"How is this predictable?"
"Because you followed me here."
The answer was blunt.
Marcus did not like it.
But he knew she was right.
He picked up the folder with the medical form.
"You take these."
Maya stopped.
"What?"
"You have been protecting them for three years."
She looked at him.
"That doesn't mean I should keep them."
"No."
Marcus looked toward the door.
"But it means if someone is looking for them, they may come to you first."
Something changed in her expression.
Not trust.
Not yet.
Something closer to understanding.
"You really are like Claire."
Marcus froze.
The sentence bothered him more than it should have.
"What does that mean?"
Maya looked away.
"She would have said the same thing."
For a moment, he hated hearing his wife's name from someone else.
Then he hated himself for feeling that way.
Claire had existed before she became his loss.
Maya had known a version of her he never met.
A version who searched.
A version who questioned.
A version who was afraid.
They left the hotel separately.
Maya went first.
Marcus waited ten minutes before carrying Emma out.
He kept expecting someone to appear.
Someone following him.
Someone watching.
But nobody did.
That almost made him more nervous.
When danger was obvious, he knew what to do.
He could run.
He could fight.
He could call someone.
The unknown was harder.
The drive back to Rachel's house was quiet.
Emma slept in the back seat.
Marcus checked the mirror more often than he needed to.
At a stoplight, he noticed a black SUV behind him.
His body reacted before his mind did.
His hands tightened around the wheel.
His heart accelerated.
Then the SUV turned away.
Marcus let out a breath he had not realized he was holding.
He felt embarrassed.
Even alone in the car.
He had spent his entire adult life believing fear was something people either controlled or failed to control.
Now he understood fear was not a decision.
It was a visitor.
And once it arrived, it did not always leave when asked.
Rachel opened the door before he knocked.
She looked past him toward the street.
"Where's Maya?"
"She went somewhere else."
Rachel frowned.
"That means something happened."
Marcus walked inside.
"Yes."
He placed the folder on the kitchen table.
Rachel stared at it.
"What is that?"
"Something Claire left behind."
Her face changed.
Not surprise.
Concern.
"Marcus."
"Don't."
He pointed at the chair.
"Sit down."
Rachel hesitated.
She hated when he used that tone.
It meant he was already past the point where advice worked.
She sat.
Marcus explained everything.
Thomas.
Maya.
The envelope.
The note.
He watched his sister carefully as he spoke.
Every reaction.
Every pause.
Every moment where she seemed to know more than she said.
When he finished, Rachel looked at the table.
"I should have told you."
The admission came quietly.
Marcus looked at her.
"About what?"
Rachel swallowed.
"About the night Claire called me."
"What night?"
"Two days before she went to the hospital."
The room went still.
Marcus sat down slowly.
"What did she say?"
Rachel rubbed her hands together.
It was a habit she had when she was uncomfortable.
One Marcus had seen since they were children.
"She said she had made a mistake."
Marcus felt his chest tighten.
"What mistake?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know?"
"No."
Rachel looked frustrated.
"Because she wouldn't tell me."
"Then why bring it up?"
"Because I thought maybe now it mattered."
Marcus leaned back.
"Everything matters now."
Rachel looked at him.
The sadness in her eyes made him angry because it looked like pity.
"She was scared, Marcus."
"I know."
"No."
Rachel shook her head.
"You don't."
The words landed harder because they came from his sister.
"She wasn't scared of dying."
Marcus looked down.
"She was scared of leaving Emma alone."
The anger in him softened.
Just for a second.
Then it returned.
"Why didn't she tell me?"
Rachel did not answer.
That was answer enough.
Marcus stood.
"I need air."
He walked outside before Rachel could stop him.
The neighborhood was quiet.
A few porch lights were still on.
Someone nearby was mowing a lawn even though it was almost dark.
The ordinary sound felt strangely comforting.
Marcus stood beside the driveway and watched a neighbor drag a trash bin toward the curb.
A man in a sweatshirt.
A normal person.
Living a normal night.
Marcus wondered when his own life had stopped being ordinary.
His phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
He stared at it.
Then answered.
"Hello?"
No one spoke at first.
Marcus waited.
Finally, a woman's voice came through.
"You shouldn't have opened the envelope."
His stomach tightened.
"Who is this?"
A pause.
"Someone who cared about Claire."
"That doesn't answer my question."
"No."
The woman sounded tired.
"It doesn't."
Marcus looked back toward the house.
"How did you get this number?"
"You have the same phone number Claire saved."
The answer made no sense.
"What does that mean?"
"She thought you would need help."
"From who?"
The woman was silent.
Then:
"From the person who caused all of this."
Marcus felt the cold move through him.
"Who?"
The call ended.
He looked at the screen.
No number.
No information.
Nothing he could trace.
Just another person leaving him with more questions.
May you like
When he went back inside, Rachel was standing by the kitchen window.
She looked at his face and immediately knew something had happened.
