Chapter 5: The Woman at the Window
The house stayed dark.
For one long second, nobody moved.
Then something shattered downstairs.
Darla screamed.
I reached for my phone, nearly dropping it as I turned on the flashlight.
“Stay behind me,” Cole said.
I spun toward him.
“Why?””
He was already moving toward the stairs.
“Because somebody may be inside.””
My stomach tightened.
“You just said Sophie was watching me.””
“I don't know what that message meant.””
“You knew about her.””
“I knew about the records.””
“You knew she existed.””
“Yes.””
“And you still didn't tell me.””
“I was trying to protect you.””
I almost laughed.
“Stop using that word.””
A soft sound came from downstairs.
A floorboard.
Then another.
Cole motioned for me to stay back.
I ignored him.
We moved down the stairs together.
My phone light swept across the living room.
The pink balloons from the baby shower were drifting near the ceiling.
A silver serving tray lay broken across the hardwood.
One of the dining chairs had been knocked over.
The back door was closed.
The front door was locked.
“Who came in?”” I whispered.
Cole checked the windows.
“All of them are locked.””
Darla stood halfway down the stairs, trembling.
“I heard someone in the kitchen.””
I looked toward the archway.
“Mom, stay upstairs.””
“No.””
“Please.””
She shook her head.
“Emma, there’s something you need to know.””
“Later.””
“No. Now.””
She gripped the railing.
“If Sophie found you, she may already know everything.””
I turned.
“What does that mean?””
Darla's lips parted.
Before she could answer, a light appeared outside.
A car.
Parked across the street.
Its headlights came on.
Then off.
Cole noticed it too.
He walked toward the window.
“Don't go near it,” I said.
He stopped.
The car remained there.
Dark sedan.
Engine running.
Nobody got out.
My phone buzzed.
I looked down.
*You should not have opened the blue box.*
Then another message.
*Now he knows you know.*
My heart slammed against my ribs.
I turned the phone toward Cole.
He read it.
His jaw tightened.
“Give me the phone.””
“No.””
“Emma.””
“No.””
“Someone is tracking you.””
“I know.””
“We need to leave.””
“Where?””
“A hotel. Somewhere public.””
“No.””
He stared at me.
“Why?””
“Because the woman told me not to let you take me anywhere tonight.””
His face changed.
That sentence hit him like a slap.
“Emma, listen to me. She is manipulating you.””
“Maybe.””
“But she's not the only one who knows about Sophie.””
“Who else?””
He didn't answer.
I stepped closer.
“Who else knows?””
Cole looked toward my mother.
“Darla does.””
“My mother?””
“Yes.””
Darla's expression twisted.
“I didn't know she was alive.””
“That's not what I asked.””
She lowered her eyes.
“I suspected.””
“When?””
“Years ago.””
I felt something crack inside me.
“How many secrets have you been carrying?””
Darla whispered, “Too many.””
A shadow moved across the window.
I froze.
Someone was standing outside.
Right beside the glass.
A woman's silhouette.
Long hair.
Still.
Watching us.
I screamed.
Cole reached for the curtain.
“Don't!””
The shadow disappeared.
Cole ran to the front door.
“Cole, no!””
He opened it.
Cold rain rushed into the foyer.
The street was empty.
The dark sedan was gone.
He stepped onto the porch.
Nothing.
No footsteps.
No movement.
Then he looked down.
A small white envelope sat on the welcome mat.
His whole body went still.
He picked it up.
My name was written across the front.
*Emma Carter.*
“Bring it here,” I said.
Cole shook his head.
“Don't touch it.””
“You already did.””
He stared at me.
Then slowly handed it over.
Inside was a photograph.
I pulled it out.
My breath caught.
It was me.
Pregnant.
Standing in my kitchen.
Taken from outside the house.
The photograph had been taken that morning.
I could see myself arranging flowers for the baby shower.
Someone had been watching me before I ever opened that pantry door.
On the back, one sentence had been written.
*Your mother isn't the only woman who betrayed you.*
Darla made a sound behind me.
I turned.
She was staring at the photograph.
“You know who took this.””
“No.””
“You're lying.””
She looked at me.
“No, Emma. I swear.””
Cole stepped inside and shut the door.
“We need to call the police.””
I stared at him.
“Now?””
“Yes.””
“What do we tell them?””
“That someone is stalking you.””
“With photographs of me?””
“Yes.””
“And my mother has been hiding my sister for thirty years?””
Cole went silent.
“That part doesn't matter to the police.””
“It matters to me.””
I put the photograph into my purse.
“I want to know where Sophie is.””
Cole nodded.
“I can take you.””
My eyes narrowed.
“To where?””
“The last address I have.””
Darla grabbed his arm.
“No.””
Cole looked at her.
“She deserves to know.””
“You don't understand what will happen.””
“I understand enough.””
“You promised.””
He pulled his arm away.
“I promised your husband, not you.””
I looked between them.
“What promise?””
Darla's face turned white.
Cole said nothing.
I stepped closer.
“What did you promise my father?””
“Nothing.””
“Cole.””
He sighed.
“Your father knew Sophie was alive.””
My heart stopped.
“What?””
“He found out five years before he died.””
“Then why didn't he tell me?””
“Because Victor Hale was still alive.””
I remembered the photograph.
My mother's old hospital picture.
The name on the adoption record.
Victor Hale.
“What did Victor do?””
Cole looked at my mother.
She whispered, “He threatened us.””
“With what?””
“Our lives.””
The word echoed in the room.
I stared at her.
“Who is Victor Hale to you?””
Darla closed her eyes.
“The man who believed Sophie belonged to him.””
“And Daniel?””
“His son.””
“Then why was Daniel looking for me?””
“Because Daniel believes Victor lied.””
“About Sophie?””
“About everything.””
A car horn sounded outside.
All three of us jumped.
Cole moved toward the window.
This time he didn't touch the curtain.
“It's Rachel.””
I looked through the gap.
My best friend's car was parked outside.
She jumped out carrying her purse, then hurried toward the front door.
I opened it before she could knock.
Rachel stopped when she saw my face.
“Oh my God.””
Then she noticed Darla.
Then Cole.
“What happened?””
“Everything.””
Rachel looked at me.
“Are you hurt?””
“No.””
“Is the baby okay?””
I nodded.
“She’s moving.””
Rachel immediately reached for my arm.
“Then we're leaving.””
Cole stepped forward.
“She shouldn't go anywhere.””
Rachel stared at him.
“You don't get to decide that.””
“Rachel—”
“No.””
She turned to me.
“Emma, I came back because I forgot my phone charger.””
She looked around.
“Then I saw a car leaving.””
“What car?””
“Black SUV.””
Cole's face changed.
“What?””
Rachel looked at him.
“Why?””
“Did you see the driver?””
“No.””
“License plate?””
“No.””
She pulled her phone from her purse.
“But I took a picture.””
My pulse jumped.
“Show me.””
Rachel opened her camera roll.
She had photographed the SUV as it turned down the street.
The image was blurry.
But something was visible through the back windshield.
A woman.
Long dark hair.
She was sitting in the rear seat.
And beside her was a child.
I stared at the screen.
The child looked about ten years old.
Rachel zoomed in.
“That can't be right,” she whispered.
I felt sick.
“Why?””
She pointed at the screen.
“The date stamp says the photo was taken today.””
My eyes remained on the girl.
Dark hair.
Pale skin.
A tiny silver star bracelet around her wrist.
The same bracelet from my mother's photograph.
I looked at Darla.
She began to cry.
“That bracelet,” she whispered.
“Who is the girl?””
My mother didn't answer.
“Mom!””
She covered her mouth.
“I don't know.””
Rachel looked at all of us.
“What the hell is going on?””
I couldn't answer.
Because something on Rachel's screen had changed.
The SUV had stopped.
The woman inside was turning toward the camera.
Her face was still blurry.
But her hand was raised.
She wasn't shielding her face.
She was waving.
At us.
Rachel slowly lowered the phone.
“Emma…”
The screen went black.
A new message appeared on my phone.
*You finally found me.*
Then another.
*Now come to the old house alone.*
A location followed.
I recognized it immediately.
The house where my father had died.
I looked at Cole.
He saw the address.
“No.””
I folded my fingers around the phone.
“I’m going.””
“You are not.””
“She knows where I live.””
“That's exactly why you can't go.””
I looked at my mother.
She was crying silently.
“Mom?””
She wouldn't meet my eyes.
“Did my father die because of Sophie?””
Darla whispered,
“No.””
She looked up.
“He died because he found out who you really are.””
The room went silent.
My phone buzzed again.
One final message.
*And Emma?*
I opened it.
*Bring the paternity test.*
May you like
Then, beneath it:
*Because Lily isn't the baby they think she is.*
