Chương 7
I WAS WONDERING HOW LONG IT WOULD TAKE YOU.
Daniel placed the phone face down.
Claire leaned forward.
"That's different."
"How?"
"The first message was about the letter."
"And this one?"
"This one is about you."
The distinction bothered him because she was right.
Someone was not just watching what he found.
Someone was watching him react to finding it.
Daniel walked to the window again.
He pulled the curtain back slightly and looked down at the street.
Nothing moved differently.
No obvious car waiting.
No person standing under a streetlight pretending not to stare.
Just strangers going home.
That was the part that frightened him most.
Danger had always been easier to understand when it looked dangerous.
"What did Emily tell you about Thomas?" he asked.
Claire looked surprised.
"Nothing."
"Nothing at all?"
"She never mentioned his name."
"Then why did he know about her?"
"I don't know."
Daniel turned around.
"You have to stop saying that."
"I know."
The way she said it made him stop.
Not defensive.
Not angry.
Just exhausted.
"I have spent three weeks trying to answer that question," Claire said.
"I looked through everything my sister left behind."
Daniel sat down.
"Did you find anything?"
"Some things."
"What things?"
Claire hesitated.
"My sister kept journals."
"Where are they?"
"At my apartment."
"Why didn't you bring them?"
"Because after someone entered my apartment, I stopped going through her things."
Daniel looked at her.
"You left evidence behind?"
Claire's face tightened.
"They are not evidence."
"Maybe they are."
"They were my sister's."
The sentence ended the argument.
Daniel looked away.
He had spent years treating everything connected to Emily as something to solve.
A problem.
A question.
A missing piece.
He forgot sometimes that every piece had belonged to a person.
"What was your sister's name?" he asked.
Claire's expression softened.
"Rachel."
"How long were you close?"
"Most of my life."
"Did she believe Emily was alive?"
Claire looked down.
"No."
The answer came quickly.
Daniel noticed.
"Then why are you here?"
"Because Rachel believed something happened."
"What kind of something?"
"She thought Emily was hiding."
"From who?"
"She never knew."
Claire folded her arms.
"Rachel thought Emily was protecting someone."
Daniel frowned.
"That doesn't make sense."
"It didn't to me either."
"Did Emily ever say that?"
"No."
"Then why did your sister think it?"
"Because Rachel knew people."
Daniel waited.
"People in recovery programs tell each other things they don't tell anyone else."
Daniel looked at the letter.
"Because they don't trust people outside."
"Sometimes."
"Did Emily trust you?"
Claire was quiet.
"Not at first."
"What changed?"
"She saw my sister defend someone who wasn't there."
Daniel looked confused.
"Meaning?"
"Rachel spoke up for another woman when everyone else was saying she deserved what happened to her."
Daniel understood.
"Emily noticed."
"Yes."
"Because she thought nobody defended her."
Claire nodded.
The silence that followed was not empty.
It carried the weight of two people realizing they had both known different versions of the same woman.
Daniel remembered Emily sitting on his couch years earlier, furious about something she refused to explain.
He had asked who hurt her.
She had said, "Nobody."
He had believed the answer because it was easier than asking again.
Now he wondered how many times she had given him the truth in a form he did not want to accept.
"Show me the journals," he said.
Claire looked at him.
"Tonight?"
"Yes."
"Daniel, if someone is watching you, leaving this apartment might not be smart."
"If someone is watching me, staying here isn't exactly a solution."
"That is not how safety works."
He looked at her.
"You sound like you have done this before."
Claire looked away.
"My sister disappeared once."
Daniel waited.
"Not like Emily."
"What happened?"
"She left for three days."
"Why?"
"Because she was embarrassed."
Claire rubbed her thumb against the edge of the table.
"She relapsed."
The word stayed there.
Daniel did not say anything.
He had spent enough time around Emily to know recovery was not a straight line.
He also knew how quickly people turned one mistake into an identity.
"She came back," Claire said.
"Yes."
"Emily never got that chance."
Daniel looked down.
He had no response.
Claire stood and grabbed her coat.
"My apartment is across the hall."
"That doesn't make it safe."
"It doesn't make anywhere safe."
She opened the door slowly.
Daniel immediately noticed she checked the hallway before stepping out.
A small movement.
A practiced movement.
She had done it before.
He followed her.
The hallway smelled like old carpet and someone's cooking.
A television played behind one of the doors.
A baby cried somewhere farther down.
Life continued in every direction.
Claire unlocked her apartment.
The door opened easily.
Too easily.
Daniel noticed the scratch near the lock before she did.
"Wait."
She froze.
"What?"
He pointed.
Claire stepped closer.
Her face changed.
"I didn't see that."
Daniel touched the damaged area carefully.
"Someone forced it."
"Maybe."
"You said someone entered."
"I know what I said."
Her voice was sharper now.
Fear often came out as anger when people had nowhere else to put it.
Daniel looked at her.
"Call the police."
Claire laughed once.
It was not a happy sound.
"And tell them what?"
"That someone broke in."
"And then what?"
"They investigate."
"Do they?"
The question was not cynical.
It sounded like experience.
Daniel did not argue.
He had no idea what would happen next.
He only knew pretending nothing happened had already cost them eleven years.
They entered the apartment.
Claire did not turn on all the lights.
Only the small lamp beside the couch.
Daniel noticed that too.
"You don't like bright lights."
Claire looked at him.
"What?"
"You only turn on one lamp."
She looked around.
"I guess I don't."
"Emily did that."
The words came out before he could stop them.
Claire looked at him.
"What?"
"She hated overhead lights."
A small silence passed.
May you like
"She said they made everything look worse."
Claire looked toward the lamp.
