Chapter 6
I felt every eye in the room turn toward me.
“What records about me?”
James was still on speaker.
“I don't know everything.”
“Stop saying that.”
“Claire—”
“You knew enough to court me under false pretenses. You knew enough to hide two children. You knew enough to help your family steal from my company. So stop pretending you were just some confused bystander.”
“I’m not.”
His voice shook.
“I know what I did.”
“Then answer me.”
“My mother had a file on you.”
“Why?”
“To learn what mattered to you.”
A chill moved through me.
“What does that mean?”
“Your work schedule. Charities. Friends. Places you went.”
Rachel whispered, “That’s stalking.”
James exhaled.
“Yes.”
I closed my eyes.
The charity event.
The accidental spilled drink.
The effortless conversation.
Even the restaurant he chose for our first date had been my favorite.
I had laughed because we ordered the same dessert.
Now I wondered if Patricia’s file had included that too.
“How much did you know?”
“Too much.”
“Did you actually spill that drink accidentally?”
Silence.
I opened my eyes.
“James.”
“No.”
The room went still.
Rachel muttered something under her breath.
I stared at the wall.
Three years of memories rearranged themselves in seconds.
Our meeting.
Our first date.
Our first vacation.
His proposal.
Even the moment I thought life had finally given me someone who understood me.
“What about the proposal?”
His voice fell.
“What about it?”
“You proposed at Percy Warner Park because my father used to take me there.”
“Yes.”
“Did I tell you that?”
Another pause.
“No.”
My stomach turned.
I ended the call.
I couldn't listen anymore.
Rachel took my phone from my shaking hand.
“Sit down.”
“I don’t want to sit down.”
“Claire.”
“I need to move.”
My whole body felt electric.
I wanted to run.
Scream.
Break something.
Instead, I walked to the window and pressed both hands against the glass.
Below us, people crossed the street carrying coffees and shopping bags.
Normal lives.
Ordinary Saturday.
I had woken that morning thinking my biggest problem would be whether I cried during my vows.
By lunch, I had learned my fiancé had two hidden children, his mother may have run their mother off the road, and my entire relationship might have started as corporate manipulation.
Elaine spoke behind me.
“There’s one thing you need to understand.”
I turned.
“What?”
“Patricia’s plan only worked if you trusted James enough to sign the partnership agreement.”
I laughed bitterly.
“She succeeded.”
“You didn’t sign.”
“I would have Monday.”
“But you didn’t.”
That mattered.
Not emotionally.
But legally.
I still owned my decisions.
She hadn't taken those yet.
My phone rang in Rachel’s hand.
It was my mother.
I answered immediately.
“Mom?”
“Claire.”
Her voice was tense.
“Come back to the hospital.”
“What happened?”
“Rebecca remembered something.”
I grabbed my bag.
“What?”
“She knows who was driving.”
We left the bank with Daniel carrying copies of every document.
The originals stayed secured.
Police were notified.
Elaine came with us.
By the time we reached the hospital, two detectives were outside Rebecca’s room.
Sophie was sitting in a chair with her arms wrapped around Noah.
My mother walked toward me.
“She woke up screaming.”
I looked toward the room.
“What did she remember?”
“She saw Patricia.”
My stomach dropped.
“Clearly?”
“She says yes.”
One detective stepped out.
“Ms. Harper?”
“Yes.”
“Rebecca told us she remembered the driver after hearing Patricia’s name.”
“Was it intentional?”
“We're still determining that.”
“What did she say?”
He hesitated.
“She says Patricia was beside her car at a traffic light about four minutes before the collision.”
“Beside her?”
“Yes.”
“Did they speak?”
“Through the windows.”
“What did Patricia say?”
The detective looked toward Sophie.
“Maybe somewhere private.”
We stepped down the hall.
He lowered his voice.
“Rebecca says Patricia told her, ‘If you go to that church, everything you care about disappears.’”
Cold spread through me.
“And then Patricia hit her?”
“Rebecca says the SUV followed her. When she turned onto a side road, it accelerated.”
My throat tightened.
“She believes Patricia intentionally struck her vehicle?”
“Yes.”
I looked through the glass toward Rebecca.
She was pale.
Terrified.
But awake.
“Do you have Patricia?”
“Not yet.”
“What do you mean not yet?”
“She isn’t at her home.”
“The warehouse?”
“No.”
“James?”
“We’re checking.”
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
A photograph appeared.
It showed my wedding gown.
The one I had left in the hospital bathroom.
It was lying across the floor.
Cut straight through the middle.
Beneath the photo was one sentence.
You should have finished the ceremony.
My blood turned to ice.
I handed the phone to the detective.
His expression changed.
“Where was the dress?”
“Here.”
He immediately called hospital security.
Rachel whispered, “She’s here?”
The detective shook his head.
“We don't know.”
But suddenly the hospital felt unsafe.
I looked toward Sophie and Noah.
“Move the children.”
The detective nodded.
Laura gathered them.
Noah didn't understand.
Sophie did.
She grabbed my hand.
“Is Grandma Patricia here?”
My heart broke at the word Grandma.
Patricia had known these children.
She had hugged them.
Taken photographs with them.
Then treated their existence like a stain.
“I don't know.”
Sophie’s voice trembled.
“She gets scary when she thinks Daddy won’t listen.”
I crouched.
“What does that mean?”
She looked at Laura.
Laura nodded gently.
“You can tell Claire.”
Sophie swallowed.
“One time Daddy told her he was taking us to the zoo.”
I waited.
“Grandma Patricia got mad.”
“Why?”
“Because somebody might see us.”
My chest tightened.
“What happened?”
“She yelled at Daddy outside.”
“When?”
“Last summer.”
James and I had been engaged then.
“What did James do?”
Sophie’s eyes filled.
“He took us anyway.”
That surprised me.
“Did Patricia go?”
“No.”
“Did anything happen?”
Sophie nodded.
“Daddy got in trouble.”
“How?”
“She took his car.”
Laura frowned.
“Sophie, what do you mean?”
“Grandma Patricia made somebody come get it.”
I looked at Laura.
“Did James ever tell Rebecca this?”
“No.”
Sophie continued.
“Daddy had to call Mommy to pick us up.”
A memory suddenly hit me.
Last July.
James had called me from Franklin and said his car had broken down after meeting a subcontractor.
I had offered to pick him up.
He had refused.
Rebecca must have done it.
Every lie connected to another.
The detective took Sophie’s statement carefully.
Then hospital security returned.
No sign of Patricia.
But camera footage showed a woman in a housekeeping uniform entering the restroom where I changed.
Her face was hidden beneath a cap and mask.
She left carrying a large bag.
Twenty minutes later, my dress was discovered in a service corridor.
My mother turned pale.
“She was close enough to touch Claire.”
I looked at the detective.
“Find her.”
“We’re trying.”
“Try harder.”
My voice came out sharper than I intended.
He didn't react.
“I understand.”
“No, you don’t.”
I pointed toward the children.
“She tried to force their mother out of town. Rebecca says she drove into her car. Someone just destroyed my wedding dress inside this hospital. Patricia is not embarrassed. She is escalating.”
The detective nodded once.
“You’re right.”
He ordered an officer to stay near Rebecca’s room.
Another was assigned to the children.
I finally went inside.
Rebecca looked exhausted.
“I’m sorry.”
I almost laughed.
“You need to stop saying that.”
She attempted a weak smile.
“Did you open the box?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes searched mine.
“Bad?”
“Worse.”
“I figured.”
I sat.
“James targeted me before we even met.”
Rebecca closed her eyes.
“He told me once.”
I froze.
“What?”
“He was drunk.”
“When?”
“Last year.”
I felt the hurt before the anger.
“You knew?”
“I didn't understand.”
“Rebecca.”
“He said his mother had pushed him toward you.”
“And you didn’t think I deserved to know?”
Tears appeared in her eyes.
“I was scared.”
“Of what?”
“Losing my children.”
“To James?”
“To Patricia.”
I went quiet.
Rebecca looked toward the door.
“After James started seeing you, Patricia suddenly became interested in Sophie and Noah.”
My stomach tightened.
“She had barely seen them before.”
“Then why did she?”
“She wanted leverage.”
“Against James.”
Rebecca nodded.
“She told him if he stopped seeing you, she would help me move out of state and make sure he never saw the kids again.”
“That doesn't make sense. She had no legal authority.”
“You think that mattered to James?”
Rebecca gave me a sad look.
“His mother controlled his money. His job. His car. His apartment before you two moved in together.”
I remembered how proud James had seemed when we bought our house.
Our house.
Except I had paid eighty percent of the down payment.
He had insisted his assets were tied up in company projects.
I had believed him.
Rebecca whispered, “James has spent his whole life afraid of her.”
“So he used me.”
“Yes.”
The direct answer hurt.
She didn't soften it.
I respected that.
Then she added, “But I think he loved you too.”
I looked away.
“That doesn't help.”
“I know.”
“No, Rebecca. It makes it worse.”
She was quiet.
“If it was all fake, I could throw it away. But if some part of it was real, then every good memory becomes contaminated.”
Rebecca’s eyes filled.
“I understand.”
Of course she did.
James had done the same thing to both of us.
Maybe in different ways.
But the pattern was identical.
He loved people.
Then betrayed them to avoid confronting his mother.
A nurse entered and checked Rebecca’s IV.
My phone buzzed again.
This time it was James.
One sentence.
Mom took Noah’s blue backpack.
I stood so quickly the chair scraped the floor.
Rebecca went pale.
“What?”
I showed her.
Her eyes widened.
“No.”
“What’s in it?”
She tried to sit up.
Pain hit her immediately.
“Rebecca.”
“The recorder.”
My heart pounded.
“What recorder?”
She looked terrified.
“A small voice recorder.”
“Why was it in Noah’s backpack?”
“Because he took it from my bedroom this morning.”
“What’s recorded on it?”
Rebecca swallowed.
“Patricia.”
My pulse jumped.
“Saying what?”
May you like
Rebecca stared at me.
“Everything.”
