Chapter 11: The Memory Nia Buried
Marcus found Nia sitting on the floor of her bedroom.
The curtains were closed.
The lights were off.
She looked like she was trying to disappear.
He sat beside her.
“Nia.””
She didn’t look up.
“I’m sorry.””
Those words immediately worried him.
“Why are you apologizing?””
“Because everyone gets hurt because of me.””
Marcus shook his head.
“No.””
“But Mom died.””
The room became silent.
Marcus felt the pain behind those words.
Not a child asking a question.
A child carrying guilt.
“Nia, look at me.””
Slowly, she did.
“You were five years old.””
“I remember.””
Marcus froze.
“What do you remember?””
She swallowed.
“Not everything.””
“That’s okay.””
“No.””
Her voice trembled.
“I need to tell you.””
Marcus moved closer.
“Take your time.””
Nia stared at the floor.
“I remember being in the car.””
Marcus’s heart broke.
“I remember Mom was driving.””
“What else?””
“I remember she was scared.””
Marcus felt cold.
“Why?””
“Because someone was following us.””
The room seemed to shrink.
“Who?””
Nia closed her eyes.
“I don’t know.””
“Did you see them?””
She nodded.
“Kind of.””
Marcus waited.
“There was a woman.””
His breath stopped.
“Who?””
Nia whispered:
“Vanessa.””
Marcus looked away.
Not because he didn’t believe her.
Because he did.
“What happened after that?””
Nia hugged herself.
“Mom told me to close my eyes.””
“Why?””
“She said everything would be okay.””
Marcus held back tears.
“She loved you.””
“I heard them arguing.””
“Who?””
“Mom and Vanessa.””
“What did they say?””
Nia’s face tightened.
“She said Mom was ruining everything.””
Marcus felt his stomach turn.
“Then?””
“Then there was a loud sound.””
“A crash?””
Nia nodded.
“And I remember waking up.””
“Where was Vanessa?””
Nia looked terrified.
“She was outside the car.””
Marcus froze.
“She wasn’t helping.””
“What was she doing?””
Nia whispered:
“She was looking for something.””
“What?””
“I don’t know.””
Marcus closed his eyes.
The truth was becoming clearer.
But one question remained.
Why had Vanessa let Nia survive?
Later that day, Marcus met with Daniel again.
He needed answers.
“You knew Nia was in the car.””
Daniel nodded.
“Yes.””
“Did Vanessa know she survived?””
Daniel looked uncomfortable.
“Yes.””
Marcus stared.
“How?””
“Because she came to the scene.””
Marcus froze.
“She was there?””
Daniel nodded.
“She arrived before the ambulance.””
“Why?””
“I don’t know.””
Marcus stood.
“She knew.””
Daniel looked down.
“She knew everything.””
That night, investigators searched old financial records.
They found something.
A payment.
Made the day after the accident.
From a company connected to Jonathan Vale.
To Vanessa.
Marcus stared at the document.
“She was paid.””
The investigator nodded.
“Looks that way.””
“For what?””
“We don’t know.””
Then another file appeared.
A message recovered from an old account.
Marcus read it.
Vanessa had written:
The child remembers less than we thought.
Marcus felt sick.
She had known Nia remembered.
She had spent years trying to control that memory.
Meanwhile, Vanessa was hiding in a motel outside the city.
She sat on the edge of the bed.
Jonathan stood near the window.
“This is falling apart.””
Vanessa looked at him.
“No.””
“They have the video.””
“They don’t have enough.””
“They have the witness.””
Her face tightened.
“They have a scared driver who waited eight years.””
Jonathan shook his head.
“You should have handled Marcus better.””
Vanessa laughed.
“Marcus was easy.””
“He trusted you.””
“That was the mistake.””
Jonathan looked at her.
“What about Nia?””
Vanessa became quiet.
Then she opened a drawer.
Inside was a small notebook.
Filled with notes.
Dates.
Observations.
Memories.
Jonathan stared.
“You kept records?””
“I had to.””
“Why?””
Vanessa looked at the notebook.
“Because children remember things.””
A phone buzzed.
She checked it.
Her face changed.
“What?””
Jonathan asked.
Vanessa showed him the screen.
A message.
Marcus knows.
For the first time, Vanessa looked afraid.
Because she understood something.
The story she had controlled for years was no longer hers.
The next morning, Marcus received a package.
No return address.
Inside was a small object.
A necklace.
His wife’s necklace.
The one she wore the night she died.
Marcus stared.
Impossible.
That necklace had disappeared at the accident scene.
Then he saw the note attached.
I should have told you eight years ago.
The handwriting was familiar.
It belonged to Patricia.
The note continued:
The accident was not the only crime.
Marcus turned the page.
May you like
And read the final sentence.
Your wife discovered what Vanessa was planning before she died.
