Chương 4
A night attendant sat behind thick glass watching a baseball replay on a small television.
Emma gave her name.
The attendant’s expression changed.
“You were here Tuesday.”
Emma nodded.
“Is something wrong with my account?”
“No. A man came in yesterday asking about your unit.”
The room went silent.
Claire said, “What man?”
The attendant looked uncertain.
“I can’t give out customer information.”
Emma leaned closer to the glass.
“I’m the customer.”
“Right, but he didn’t access anything. I told him I couldn’t even confirm you rented here.”
“Did he give a name?”
“He said he was your husband.”
Ryan swore.
Richard put a hand on his shoulder before he could move, though there was nowhere useful to move to.
Emma’s mouth had gone dry.
“What did he look like?”
The attendant described Daniel.
Not perfectly. Dark suit instead of tuxedo. Clean-cut. Early thirties. Blond. Expensive watch.
Close enough.
“Did he try to get into the locker?”
“He asked what he needed if a key was lost. I told him ID and account verification from the customer. He left.”
Claire asked whether there were security cameras.
The attendant’s caution returned.
“Yes.”
“Please don’t erase anything from yesterday,” Emma said. “The police may contact you.”
The woman’s face softened.
“I can flag the time window for my manager.”
Emma thanked her.
Richard did not speak until they were in the elevator.
“He knew before tonight.”
Emma pressed the button for the second floor even though Claire had already pressed it.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
The elevator hummed upward.
Ryan said, “Maybe he tracked your phone.”
Emma felt something shift inside her.
She looked at him.
“What?”
“You said he always knew where you were.”
“I thought he was checking the car app.”
Claire looked over.
“What car app?”
“The shared account. Daniel set it up.”
“Do you still have it?”
“My current phone does.”
“Turn off location sharing.”
Ryan already had his hand out.
Emma pulled the phone against her coat.
“No.”
He stopped.
“I can do it.”
“I was just helping.”
“I know.”
She opened the settings herself.
Her hands were unsteady. It took two tries to find the right menu. She hated that three people watched her fail the first time.
Finally she disabled the shared location services she recognized.
“There,” she said.
Claire asked, “Anything else?”
Emma looked at the screen.
“I don’t know.”
That was worse.
Locker 214 was halfway down a corridor of gray metal doors.
Claire gave Emma the key back.
It took several seconds before Emma could make herself touch the lock.
This place had existed in her mind as an emergency exit. Every photograph, receipt, copy of a message, and stupid little note she had hidden here had represented some future version of herself who would be brave enough to use them.
Now that future version had apparently arrived wearing a pale-blue dress with one torn strap beneath a coat and dried blood at the corner of her mouth.
She did not feel brave.
She felt tired.
She turned the key.
Inside the narrow locker sat a blue canvas tote, an old shoebox, a manila folder, and a pair of running shoes she had forgotten she owned.
Ryan stared at the shoes.
“You stored sneakers?”
“I panicked.”
He made a sound through his nose.
“Okay.”
Emma looked at him.
“What?”
“Nothing. It’s just… that’s very you.”
“How are emergency sneakers very me?”
“You packed for escaping like you were going to accidentally have to go to Pilates.”
Despite everything, Claire laughed once.
Richard did not.
Emma pulled out the canvas tote.
Inside was her old phone, wrapped in one of Daniel’s missing hand towels. A charger. Printed screenshots. A small notebook. Two prescription bottles. Copies of bank statements. Her passport. Eight hundred dollars in cash. An unopened prepaid phone card Ryan had once given her as a joke when she complained that Daniel always upgraded her devices before she wanted him to.
At the bottom lay a sealed plastic envelope containing a flash drive.
Richard reached toward the notebook.
Emma jerked it away.
He froze.
“That’s mine.”
“Of course.”
She put it back in the tote.
The reaction embarrassed her.
She hated that too.
Claire crouched beside the locker.
“Was anything moved?”
Emma looked carefully.
The shoebox was still tucked behind the tote. The tape across the folder had not been broken.
“No.”
“You’re sure?”
“I think so.”
Richard said, “We should give all of it to the police.”
Emma turned toward him.
“We?”
He took a breath.
“Emma.”
“No. You don’t get to say we like you found this.”
His face hardened reflexively.
Ryan muttered, “Oh, boy.”
Richard looked at his son.
“Stay out of it.”
Emma said, “No. Don’t do that either.”
“Do what?”
“Act like you’re in charge because you’re scared.”
For a second Richard looked almost offended.
Then something in him gave way.
His shoulders lowered.
“All right.”
Emma had expected an argument. His surrender made her angrier.
“Don’t just say all right.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know!”
Her voice bounced down the metal corridor.
Somewhere behind another door, something small clattered.
Emma covered her mouth.
The outburst frightened her.
Not because it was loud.
Because Daniel had always told her loudness was proof.
Proof that she was unstable.
Proof that he was the reasonable one.
Claire stood.
“Nobody here is grading how you react.”
Emma lowered her hand.
She looked at her father.
Richard’s face was pale.
“I should have listened in March,” he said.
Emma stared at him.
“Yes.”
He nodded.
It hurt him.
She was glad.
That frightened her too.
At the police station, the tote became evidence slowly.
May you like
Nothing in real life moved with the ruthless efficiency of Claire’s military briefings or Richard’s corporate meetings. Forms appeared. Names had to be spelled. Passwords had to be remembered. An officer explained that they would document what Emma was voluntarily providing and that digital material might need separate review.
Emma’s old phone would not turn on.
