Chapter 13: The Voice That Wasn’t Mine
I watched the screen again.
And again.
The woman walking through my house.
The woman standing outside Robert’s bedroom.
The woman whispering those words.
*"Goodnight, Margaret.""*
It was my voice.
My face.
My clothes.
But I had never done it.
I gripped the edge of the table.
"No.""
Nobody spoke.
Because everyone in that room knew how impossible it looked.
Detective Harris paused the video.
"Mrs. Bennett, when was this recorded?""
I stared at the timestamp.
The night before Robert died.
"I was at the hospital.""
Andre looked at me.
"Mom?""
I nodded slowly.
"I never came home that night.""
Rebecca covered her mouth.
"Then someone was pretending to be you.""
Dr. Pierce looked exhausted.
"That was the plan.""
I turned toward him.
"You knew?""
He nodded.
"Robert figured it out too late.""
"Explain.""
Dr. Pierce sat down.
"The person behind everything needed access to Robert, but they couldn't risk being seen. So they created confusion.""
"By making it look like I was involved?""
"Yes.""
My stomach turned.
The entire world had been built on a lie.
A lie carefully designed around my own identity.
Detective Harris rewound the footage.
"Look closer.""
The video zoomed in.
The person entering the room wore a cardigan.
My cardigan.
Carried my purse.
Walked like me.
But something was wrong.
I noticed it.
"The hand.""
Everyone looked.
The person reached for the door.
A ring.
A small silver ring.
I knew that ring.
My mother had given it to me.
I touched my own hand.
"I never take that ring off.""
Andre looked confused.
"What?""
I pointed.
"The person in the video is wearing it on the wrong hand.""
Silence.
Detective Harris leaned closer.
"You are sure?""
"Yes.""
My mother had been left-handed.
She gave me the ring when I turned thirty.
She told me the engraving inside represented strength.
I had always worn it on my right hand.
Always.
Whoever copied me knew enough to steal my appearance.
But not enough to know me.
Rebecca looked at the screen.
"Then who was it?""
Nobody answered.
Then Dr. Pierce said:
"Someone who had access to Margaret's belongings.""
My mind raced.
Someone who had been in my house.
Someone who knew my routines.
Someone who could copy my clothes.
And then I remembered.
The house.
The estate papers.
The birthday party.
Everything.
One person kept appearing.
"Danielle.""
Everyone looked at her.
She shook her head immediately.
"No.""
"Your fingerprints were in my house.""
"Because I visited you.""
"You had access.""
She looked hurt.
"Margaret, I know I made mistakes. But I didn't kill Robert.""
I stared at her.
For the first time, I believed she might be telling the truth.
Because someone else had been using everyone.
Using Danielle.
Using Vanessa.
Using Thomas.
Using Dr. Pierce.
Someone smarter.
Someone closer.
Detective Harris opened the laptop again.
"There is another file.""
My heart sank.
"What now?""
He clicked it.
A folder appeared.
*PROJECT MIRROR.*
The name made my skin crawl.
Inside were hundreds of files.
Photos.
Documents.
Recordings.
Then one video.
Detective Harris played it.
A man appeared.
Not Robert.
Not Dr. Pierce.
A stranger.
But his voice was familiar.
"I have been studying Margaret Bennett for years.""
My breath stopped.
Studying?
The man continued.
"Her habits. Her relationships. Her emotional weaknesses.""
Andre looked sick.
"Who is that?""
The video continued.
"The key is not destroying someone.""
The man smiled.
"The key is making everyone believe they destroyed themselves.""
The screen froze.
Then the man's name appeared.
*Victor Hale.*
Rebecca gasped.
"No.""
I turned.
"You know him?""
She looked terrified.
"Victor was Robert's financial advisor.""
My blood went cold.
The same advisor who helped us with investments.
The man who came to our house every Christmas.
The man who knew everything.
Our accounts.
Our property.
Our family.
Detective Harris searched quickly.
"He's not at his office.""
"Where is he?""
The detective looked at another screen.
Then his face changed.
"He left the country yesterday.""
Andre stepped forward.
"Then we know who did it.""
But Detective Harris shook his head.
"No.""
He looked at the files.
"We know who planned it.""
A pause.
"But we still don't know who helped him.""
He opened one final document.
A list of names.
At the bottom was one entry.
A name crossed out.
Then replaced.
My heart stopped.
Because the name written there was mine.
*Margaret Bennett — Primary Subject / Final Transfer Recipient*
I stared.
"Why would my name be there?""
Dr. Pierce whispered:
"Because Victor wasn't trying to take your house.""
Everyone looked at him.
"He was trying to make you give it away willingly.""
The room went silent.
A notification appeared on Detective Harris's computer.
An incoming email.
From Victor Hale.
Everyone froze.
The detective opened it.
Only one sentence was inside.
*You are all looking for the wrong person. Margaret knows exactly what happened that night.*
My blood ran cold.
Because the email had an attachment.
A video.
Recorded four years ago.
The night Robert died.
Detective Harris pressed play.
And the first thing we heard was my voice.
May you like
Screaming.
"Robert, what did I do?""
