Chapter 7 - THE WOMAN WHO SHOULD HAVE DIED
The meeting was set for midnight, at a cottage deep in the woods far from town. Sarah had chosen it—a place where no one would overhear, where no one would interfere.
Michael begged me not to go. He paced the floor, listing every possible danger, every way Ethan could be waiting to ambush me. But I was resolute. If Sarah was alive… if she held the answers… I had to speak with her. For Mia.
I drove alone. The road wound through shadowed trees, the moonlight barely touching the pavement. My hands gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles ached. Every shadow looked like a man. Every rustle of wind sounded like footsteps.
I parked a short distance away and walked the rest of the way. The cottage stood in a clearing, small and weathered, a single lamp glowing in the front window. I knocked once.
The door opened.
She stood there. Pale, thin, with eyes the exact shade of Mia’s. She looked older than in her photographs—tired, haunted—but there was no mistaking her. Sarah was alive.
“Claire,” she said. Her voice was soft, trembling. “Thank you for coming.”
I stepped inside. The cottage was sparsely furnished, neat but sad. She gestured to a chair and sat opposite me, her hands folded tightly in her lap as if afraid they might not stay still.
“You know who I am,” she said.
“I know you are supposed to be dead.”
A flicker of pain crossed her face. “I was supposed to be. That was the deal.”
“What deal?”
“Ethan let me leave that night. He told me he would arrange the fire. He would plant remains. He would tell everyone I had perished. In exchange… I had to disappear. Forever. I could never contact anyone. I could never tell anyone I was alive. And most of all… I could never come back for my daughter.”
My breath caught. “But you did come back.”
“Because Ethan broke his word.” Sarah lifted her chin, eyes flashing with sudden anger. “He promised me he would find her a good home. A safe home. Far away from him. But then I learned where she had gone. I learned who had taken her. And I learned Ethan intends to use her to destroy Michael.”
I leaned forward, my heart hammering. “Sarah… who is Mia’s father?”
She looked away, staring into the fire. “That is the question, isn’t it? Ethan believes Michael is the father. That is why he hates her. That is why he wants to take her and keep her away from Michael forever.”
“And is he?”
Sarah turned back to me. Her expression was unreadable. “Michael was kind to me. When no one else was. But we were never lovers. I was never unfaithful to Ethan.”
“Then who—”
“Mia is Ethan’s daughter.”
The words hung in the air like smoke. I stared at her, stunned.
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“Mia is Ethan’s child?”
“Born September 14th. Conceived on the night he threatened to kill me. The night he told me he would rather see his child dead than have it be weak. I fled. I hid. I gave birth alone. And then… I was told she had died.”
