Chương 3
“He said a contractor named Malik Stone.”
Ethan knew the name.
Malik had been listed as missing after the same convoy fire that supposedly killed Daniel. Thirty-six years old, former medic, two children in Maryland. Ethan had seen the name in a report because he had read every page they gave him and then searched the portions they had withheld.
“Daniel had Malik’s tag?”
“No. Malik had Daniel’s.”
“Why?”
“He wouldn’t tell me.”
“You let him stay anyway.”
“One night.”
“You let a man claiming to be my dead brother stay in this house the night you lost our child, and you didn’t call me.”
“I was bleeding through hospital pads. Leah was throwing up in the downstairs bathroom. Daniel kept checking the windows. I wasn’t making a plan, Ethan.”
“You called somebody.”
“I called the number on your emergency contact sheet.”
His anger shifted direction.
“Major Bell?”
“A sergeant answered. I hung up.”
“Why?”
“Daniel took the phone out of my hand.”
Ethan’s jaw tightened.
“He touched you?”
“He took a phone.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“He never hurt me.”
“Did he threaten you?”
“No.”
“Did he threaten me?”
Claire hesitated.
Ethan saw the answer.
“What did he say?”
“That if I told anyone he was alive before he could prove what happened, the people who left him behind would know where to find you.”
“Which people?”
“He called them contractors. He mentioned a man named Grant Voss.”
Ethan knew that name too, though only from Daniel’s old stories. Voss had run logistics for the private company that hired Daniel after he left active duty. Daniel described him as a man who wore expensive hiking shoes and never carried his own bags.
“What proof?”
“Daniel said records had been hidden. Invoices, transfers, fuel shipments that didn’t exist. He said Malik found them first.”
“And Daniel?”
“He said he tried to help.”
Ethan gave a humorless breath.
“That sounds like him.”
Claire’s eyes narrowed. “What does that mean?”
“It means Daniel always arrived at the moral part of a decision after he had checked whether it could make him money.”
“He was your brother.”
“He was also Daniel.”
Nora’s face turned toward Claire’s chest. Claire rubbed the blanket with two fingers.
“Where is Leah?” Ethan asked.
Claire did not answer.
He looked at the baby.
“No.”
“She died twelve days ago.”
The words left no room to misunderstand.
“How?”
“Complications after the delivery. She was discharged, then became sick at home. She thought it was normal. By the time I got her back to the hospital—”
Claire stopped.
Ethan watched her swallow.
“Nora was nine days old.”
“And Daniel?”
“We hadn’t heard from him in four months.”
“You lived with Leah for six months?”
“She stayed here for three weeks. Then I helped her rent a room over a garage in Fairfax. She worked remotely until the company realized her identity documents were false.”
“False?”
“Daniel arranged them.”
“Of course he did.”
“Her real name was Leah. The last name wasn’t.”
“Why was she hiding?”
“She said Voss knew about her.”
“How?”
“She handled payroll for one of the subcontractors. That’s how she met Daniel.”
Ethan walked to the fireplace, then back. His body wanted distance and the room would not give him enough.
“Did you sleep with him?”
Claire went still.
Ethan hated the question before it finished leaving him. He hated that it had been waiting behind every other question.
“No.”
“He was here.”
“One night.”
“You were grieving.”
“Yes.”
“He looked like me.”
“He did not look like you.”
“He has my face.”
“He had your face,” Claire said. “He did not have your voice. He did not stand like you. He did not look at me like you. I was frightened of him, Ethan. I was not confused about which man I married.”
The answer should have relieved him. Instead, it exposed the ugliness of having asked.
He sat on the edge of the armchair.
Nora yawned.
The movement was so small and complete that Claire’s attention dropped instinctively. Ethan watched her check the baby’s nose, then the blanket near her chin.
“How did the tag get there?”
“Leah kept it in her purse. Daniel gave it to her before he disappeared. She said it was the only thing he owned that proved he had once been the person on his birth certificate.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Very little of what he said made sense.”
“And Leah put it in the blanket?”
“She asked me to.”
“When?”
“The night before she died.”
Ethan rubbed his palms against his trousers.
“Why?”
“She said if Daniel came back, I should show it to him and ask who had been buried under his name.”
“That sounds rehearsed.”
“She was frightened.”
“So are you.”
“Yes.”
“Is he coming here?”
“I don’t know.”
“Does he know the baby was born?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“He called.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
The duffel stood beside the wall like another person who had entered and decided to remain silent.
“What did he want?”
“The tag.”
“Not his daughter?”
“He asked whether she was healthy.”
“That’s all?”
“He asked whether Leah had left anything.”
“What did you say?”
“That she left Nora.”
Claire’s voice changed on the baby’s name. It became protective, nearly private.
“What did he say?”
“He was quiet. Then he asked again about the tag.”
Ethan stood.
“Give me your phone.”
Claire’s shoulders rose.
“I’m not taking it from you. I want to see the number.”
“It was blocked.”
“Call log.”
“I deleted it.”
“Why?”
“He told me to.”
“And you still follow his instructions?”
“I panicked.”
“You’ve been panicking for six months.”
“I lost a baby, found your dead brother on my porch, watched another woman die, and brought home her child. Yes, Ethan. I have been panicking.”
Nora startled at the change in Claire’s voice.
Claire closed her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
The apology was for the baby.
Ethan noticed that, and the noticing hurt.
May you like
He lowered his voice.
“Where are the hospital papers?”
