Chapter 12 - UNDER THE CONCRETE
Bones.
Human.
Buried beneath six inches of concrete.
The medical examiner couldn’t identify them immediately.
But everyone knew whose house it was.
Everyone knew who had vanished.
Michael Sloan.
The story exploded.
Reporters camped outside my house.
Rebecca’s face was on every local news station.
The abandoned bride had become a wanted fugitive.
Police warned me not to talk publicly.
I didn’t.
I cared about one thing.
Keeping Emily safe.
Then Robert came to my house.
Police had released him pending charges.
He looked twenty years older.
Emily saw him through the window.
She didn’t run to him.
That hurt him.
Good.
He deserved to feel some of it.
“Can I talk to you?” he asked.
“Not alone.”
Claire stayed.
Robert sat at the kitchen table.
He looked at Sarah’s old photograph on the wall.
Then started crying.
“I failed her.”
I didn’t comfort him.
He wiped his face.
“I lost money.”
“You lost judgment.”
“I thought I could fix it.”
“So you sacrificed Emily.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
He looked at me.
“I kept telling myself she’d only be away a few months.”
“You read the facility documents?”
He looked down.
“No.”
“You didn’t even check where you were sending her?”
Silence.
Claire turned away in disgust.
Robert whispered:
“I’m sorry.”
“That’s for Emily to decide someday.”
He nodded.
Then reached into his coat.
Police immediately moved.
Robert stopped.
“It’s just a flash drive.”
He placed it on the table.
“What is it?”
“Rebecca’s recordings.”
My stomach tightened.
“She recorded everything.”
“Why do you have them?”
“She gave me access so I could review financial meetings.”
I plugged the drive into a laptop.
Folders appeared.
Dozens.
Mark.
Diane.
Mercer.
Robert.
Me.
Emily.
She had files on everyone.
One folder was labeled:
DANIEL — BREAK POINTS.
I opened it.
Video of me at Sarah’s funeral.
Video of me drinking alone six months after her death.
Private arguments with Rebecca.
Audio recordings from our bedroom.
Notes.
Fear of losing daughter.
Responds strongly to accusations of bad parenting.
Anger trigger: Sarah comparisons.
I felt violated.
Studied.
Designed.
Rebecca hadn’t fallen in love with me.
She had profiled me.
Then Claire pointed at another folder.
EMILY — CONDITIONING.
My stomach rolled.
Inside were audio clips.
Rebecca telling Emily I was tired of her.
Rebecca saying boarding schools were normal.
Rebecca saying fathers often started new families.
Rebecca telling her not to bother me.
One recording was from three weeks earlier.
Emily was crying.
“I want Daddy.”
Rebecca replied:
“If you keep acting like this, he’ll send you away sooner.”
I stopped the audio.
I couldn’t take more.
Robert covered his face.
“I didn’t know.”
Claire snapped.
“You keep saying that like ignorance is innocence.”
Robert said nothing.
Then my laptop pinged.
A new file appeared on the flash drive.
Impossible.
The drive wasn’t connected to a network.
Mark leaned closer.
“It’s an auto-open link.”
A text document appeared.
Only one sentence.
IF DANIEL IS READING THIS, CHECK THE PLACE SARAH DIED.
My entire body went cold.
Rebecca had left the message.
I looked at Claire.
“Why would she mention Sarah?”
Claire’s face changed.
“Because Sarah didn’t die at home.”
“No.”
“She died at St. Matthew’s.”
The hospital where Rebecca had worked.
The same hospital where she first learned who we were.
May you like
And suddenly, for the first time in four years, I wondered whether Rebecca had only watched Sarah die.
Or whether she had been closer to her death than any of us knew.
