Chapter 5: The Night Emma Was Born
Marcus felt the room tilt beneath him.
“Who?””
Vanessa stood near the kitchen counter, one hand gripping the edge so tightly her knuckles had turned white.
“Who will come for Emma?””
She didn't answer.
“Vanessa.””
Her lips trembled.
“I can't tell you.””
“You just did.””
She shook her head.
“No. You don't understand.””
“Then explain it.””
“I can't.””
Marcus stepped closer.
“Someone has been watching our house. Someone has been sending you messages. Someone photographed Emma in her crib. And you're still protecting them?””
Vanessa looked at him.
“They're not the person you think.””
“Then who are they?””
Silence.
Marcus heard Noah move behind him.
He turned.
“Go upstairs.””
Noah shook his head.
“I want to stay with you.””
“Go to your room, buddy.””
“I don't want to be alone.””
Marcus's heart cracked.
“You won't be. Take your dinosaur. Leave the light on.””
Noah hesitated.
Marcus crouched.
“I'll come get you.””
“Promise?””
“I promise.””
Noah slowly climbed the stairs.
Marcus waited until he heard the bedroom door close.
Then he turned back.
Vanessa was crying.
Not the dramatic tears she'd used in the nursery.
These were different.
Her mascara had begun to run.
“What happened the night Emma was born?””
Vanessa closed her eyes.
“I was at the hospital.””
“I asked where you were before that.””
“I was home.””
“The message says you weren't.””
“It's lying.””
“Then tell me where you were.””
Vanessa swallowed.
“At the old house.””
Marcus frowned.
“What old house?””
She said nothing.
“You have five seconds.””
“Marcus—”
“Five.””
She stared at him.
“Four.””
Her voice cracked.
“Three months before Emma was born, I went to see my sister.””
“You don't have a sister.””
Vanessa looked away.
“I did.””
Marcus stared.
“What does that mean?””
“She died.””
The words landed heavily.
“When?””
“Years ago.””
“Then why did you say you went to see her?””
Vanessa sat down.
Marcus remained standing.
“Her name was Claire.””
“Why have I never heard of Claire?””
“Because after she died, your mother told everyone there had only ever been one daughter.””
Marcus frowned.
“My mother?””
Vanessa nodded.
“She knew Claire.””
“How?””
“She blamed her for something that happened when they were young.””
Marcus pulled out a chair and sat across from her.
“What happened?””
Vanessa rubbed her hands together.
“She was supposed to marry someone.””
“Who?””
“I never knew his real name.””
“Vanessa.””
“She called him Daniel.””
Marcus froze.
Something about the name hit him.
“Daniel what?””
“I don't know.””
“You're saying my mother knew your sister?””
“Yes.””
“And this man Daniel?””
“Yes.””
“What does that have to do with Emma?””
Vanessa looked toward the ceiling.
“When I became pregnant, I started getting messages.””
“From Daniel?””
“I don't know.””
“What did they say?””
“That the baby wasn't yours.””
Marcus felt his stomach drop.
“What?””
“They said Emma belonged to him.””
He stared at her.
“That's impossible.””
“I know.””
“You were pregnant with my child.””
“Yes.””
“You were living with me.””
“Yes.””
“Then why would anyone say that?””
Vanessa's eyes filled again.
“Because Claire disappeared for a reason.””
Marcus leaned forward.
“Tell me.””
“She disappeared after she got pregnant.””
“When?””
“About seven months before she died.””
“With Daniel's baby?””
Vanessa nodded.
“Where is the child?””
“I don't know.””
Marcus stared at her.
“Isn't Claire's child supposed to be...””
Vanessa didn't answer.
“Vanessa.””
She whispered, “Emma.””
Marcus stood so quickly the chair scraped the floor.
“What?””
Vanessa shook her head.
“No.””
“You just said Emma.””
“I said they think Emma is hers.””
“They?””
“The people sending the messages.””
Marcus's heart was pounding.
“Why would anyone think Emma is Claire's child?””
“Because Claire's daughter vanished.””
“Vanessa, Emma is four months old.””
“I know.””
“Claire died years ago.””
“I know.””
“Then this makes no sense.””
Vanessa covered her face.
“I thought so too.””
Marcus paced across the kitchen.
“Start at the beginning.””
Vanessa lowered her hands.
“Eight months before Emma was born, I got a phone call.””
“From whom?””
“A woman.””
“Who?””
“She wouldn't give me her name.””
“What did she want?””
“She said Claire had left something for me.””
“What?””
“A box.””
Marcus stopped pacing.
“Did you get it?””
“Yes.””
“Where is it?””
Vanessa looked toward the hallway.
“In the basement.””
Marcus's expression changed.
“Show me.””
“No.””
“Why?””
“Because once you see what's inside, you won't be able to pretend this is just a family argument.””
Marcus grabbed his phone.
“Good.””
“Marcus—”
“I've spent months believing my son was dangerous because of what you told me.””
“I never wanted him hurt.””
“You pushed him.””
“I know.””
“You lied.””
“I know.””
“You hid cameras.””
“I know.””
“And now you're telling me there may be another person claiming our daughter.””
Vanessa stood.
“I never believed them.””
“But you were afraid.””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
“Because they knew things only one person could know.””
“Who?””
Vanessa's voice became a whisper.
“Claire.””
Marcus stared at her.
“Claire is dead.””
“Yes.””
“Then someone has been pretending to be her?””
“I thought so.””
“And now?””
Vanessa looked toward the dark hallway.
“Now I'm not sure.””
A loud thud came from upstairs.
Marcus looked up.
“Noah?””
Vanessa's face changed.
Another thud.
Marcus ran.
He took the stairs two at a time.
“Noah!””
His son's bedroom door was open.
The night-light was on.
The window was closed.
The bed was empty.
Marcus stopped dead.
“Noah?””
He searched the bathroom.
Nothing.
Closet.
Nothing.
Hallway.
Nothing.
Then he heard a muffled sound from the nursery.
He ran toward it.
The nursery door was open.
Emma was crying in her crib.
A chair had been pulled beneath the ceiling camera.
Marcus stared at it.
Then he saw Noah.
The little boy was standing in the corner.
Crying.
“Daddy!””
Marcus rushed to him.
“What happened?””
“I heard someone.””
“Who?””
“I don't know.””
“Where?””
Noah pointed toward the closet.
Marcus opened it.
Empty.
He checked under the crib.
Nothing.
Then Noah grabbed his arm.
“There!””
Marcus looked toward the window.
The curtains moved slightly.
He rushed over and pulled them apart.
The window was locked.
But on the outside glass was a small handprint.
Marcus stared.
Too small to be an adult.
Too large to be Emma's.
Noah whispered, “Someone was here.””
Marcus's phone buzzed.
A new message.
He opened it.
*You keep asking the wrong questions.*
Another arrived.
*Ask Vanessa where Claire's box came from.*
Then a final message.
*And ask her why Noah was born with the same birthmark as Daniel.*
Marcus slowly turned.
Noah was staring at him.
“Daddy?””
Marcus looked down at the boy's wrist.
There, beneath the sleeve of Noah's pajamas, was the tiny crescent-shaped birthmark Marcus had never thought twice about.
He looked toward the doorway.
Vanessa was standing there.
Her face had gone completely white.
Marcus's voice came out low.
“Who is Daniel?””
Vanessa didn't move.
Then, from somewhere downstairs, the front door lock clicked.
Once.
May you like
Twice.
Someone was coming inside.
