Chapter 10 - THE MISSING YEARS
The next few days passed in a blur. Sarah filed everything—the identity correction, the criminal complaint against Evelyn, the permanent protective order. We submitted Martha’s statement, the recording, my father’s journal, and the silver brush as evidence.
But Evelyn remained gone. No credit card activity. No withdrawals. No travel records. She had simply vanished.
“She’s still in the country,” Sarah said one afternoon, reviewing reports with us. “Evelyn Holloway is too proud to run. She’s hiding. Waiting for the right moment to strike.”
Daniel leaned forward. “And when she does—”
“She will walk straight into custody.” Sarah tapped the file. “We have enough evidence to put her away for a very long time. Obstruction of justice. Fraud. Endangerment. And manslaughter, if Martha’s testimony holds up in court.”
“Martha is safe?” I asked.
“Witness protection. No one knows where she is. Not even Evelyn.” Sarah closed the folder. “But we need to be careful. Evelyn knows us. She knows our habits. She knows where Noah goes to school. She will try to use what she knows.”
That evening, Daniel and I sat on the porch while Noah played inside. The sun was setting, painting the sky in soft gold and orange.
“There’s still something missing,” Daniel said quietly. “Something Evelyn said.”
“About what?”
“About the years before… before all of this.” He frowned. “My childhood. I remember pieces. But not everything. There are gaps. Whole months I cannot recall. And Evelyn… she always said I was sick. That I had fever. That I needed rest.”
He looked at me.
“Martha said she left shortly after the accident. But she didn’t leave until six months later. Why? What happened during those six months?”
I thought about it. “Maybe Evelyn needed help. With you. With the story.”
“Or maybe,” Daniel said slowly, “she was breaking me. Remaking me. Erasing who I was so I would become who she needed me to be.”
We stood in silence. Somewhere in those missing months lay the final piece of the puzzle. Something Evelyn had gone to great lengths to bury.
Two days later, Sarah called us early in the morning. Her voice was tight with urgency.
“Come to my office. Now.”
When we arrived, she was standing by the window, holding a thick stack of papers. She turned to us, her expression grave.
“I found it. What Evelyn was hiding. What she did to Daniel during those missing months.”
She laid the documents on the table. Medical records. Old test results. Psychiatric reports. All obtained from sealed files through a court order.
Daniel leaned forward. “What is this?”
“Your medical records. From the six months after Julian’s death.” Sarah looked at him. “Evelyn admitted you to a private facility. Under the name Julian. She told doctors you had suffered severe trauma. That you were confused. That you needed help remembering who you were.”
Daniel went pale. “She… she had me committed?”
“Not exactly.” Sarah turned the page. “But she gave you medication. Strong sedatives. She told you repeatedly that you were Julian. That you had killed Daniel. That you were lucky she was saving you. Day after day. Week after week. Until you believed it.”
I felt sick. “She brainwashed him.”
“She rewrote his memory.” Sarah looked at Daniel. “She didn’t just swap your name. She rewrote your past. Your identity. Your guilt. And she kept you sedated and isolated until you accepted it as truth.”
Daniel gripped the edge of the table. His knuckles were white.
“She made me hate myself,” he whispered. “For thirty years… I have carried guilt for a crime I didn’t commit. Because she drugged me into believing it.”
“She created the perfect victim,” I said, my voice shaking with rage. “Obedient. Guilty. Forever grateful to her for saving him.”
“And the worst part?” Sarah turned another page. “The doctors noted inconsistencies. They suspected abuse. They tried to report it. But Evelyn… she paid them off. She threatened them. And eventually… she brought you home. Fully convinced you were Julian. Fully convinced you were a murderer.”
Daniel stood up and walked to the window. He stood there for a long time, shoulders shaking. When he turned around, his eyes were bright with tears—but his voice was steady.
“She tried to erase me,” he said. “But she didn’t succeed. I am Daniel. I am Noah’s father. And I will not let her rewrite my story.”
He turned to Sarah.
“Where is she? I need to know. I need to face her.”
Sarah hesitated. “Daniel—”
“Tell me.”
“She’s been spotted.” Sarah looked at the report. “At the old estate. Late at night. Watching the house. Watching the gates.”
Daniel nodded slowly.
“She’s coming back,” he said. “She wants her life back. She wants the son she raised. She wants the control she lost.”
May you like
He looked at me.
“Let her come. This time… I will be waiting.”
