Chapter 12: The Woman Who Knew Everything
The woman on the screen was the last person I expected.
“Caroline.””
Daniel looked at me.
“Who is Caroline?””
I stared at the tablet.
Caroline Hayes.
My former neighbor.
My mother’s old friend.
The woman who had hugged me yesterday and told me she was happy Daniel was getting married.
The woman who had said:
“After everything you’ve been through, you deserve happiness.””
Now she was standing behind Jessica.
Watching.
Waiting.
“She knows about Sarah,” I whispered.
Michael looked surprised.
“Caroline?””
I turned toward him.
“You know her?””
His silence answered.
Daniel noticed.
“You both know her?””
Michael looked away.
“I knew her years ago.””
“Everyone knows everyone except me.””
Daniel’s frustration filled the room.
I wanted to explain.
But I didn’t even know what was true anymore.
Melissa played the footage.
Caroline entered the room.
Jessica immediately looked relieved.
They spoke quietly.
The audio was unclear.
Then Caroline handed Jessica something.
A small envelope.
Daniel looked at the screen.
“What was that?””
“I don’t know.””
Melissa enhanced the image.
The envelope had a symbol.
A symbol I recognized.
My mother’s handwriting.
My stomach dropped.
“That came from Sarah.””
Michael stepped forward.
“What?””
I looked at him.
“Sarah used that symbol on every private document.””
Daniel stared.
“What does it mean?””
I swallowed.
“She used it when she wanted someone to know the message was meant only for family.””
Michael’s face changed.
“So Caroline had something from Sarah?””
“Yes.””
“But how?””
Nobody answered.
Then Daniel’s phone buzzed.
Another message.
Everyone froze.
He opened it.
A photograph appeared.
It showed Caroline sitting in my house.
Yesterday.
Holding a box.
My box.
The box where I kept Sarah’s letters.
Underneath the photo was a message:
*You should have asked Caroline what happened that night.*
I felt sick.
Daniel looked at me.
“What night?””
I couldn’t answer.
Because there was only one night everyone kept avoiding.
The night Sarah died.
Michael stepped closer.
“Call her.””
Daniel immediately did.
The phone rang.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then Caroline answered.
“Daniel.””
Her voice was calm.
Too calm.
“You know my name?””
“Yes.””
“How?””
A pause.
Then:
“Because I’ve been waiting for you to find out.””
Daniel looked at us.
“Why are you helping Jessica?””
Caroline laughed softly.
“Jessica?””
The sound was strange.
Almost amused.
“She was never in control.””
The room became silent.
Daniel’s grip tightened around the phone.
“Then who was?””
Caroline didn’t answer immediately.
When she did, her voice changed.
Older.
Colder.
“The same person who controlled everything twenty years ago.””
My heart raced.
“Who?””
Caroline sighed.
“You really don’t remember.””
Daniel looked at me.
I shook my head.
“Remember what?””
Caroline continued.
“Your mother was never supposed to raise you.””
Daniel froze.
“What?””
“She was supposed to give you to me.””
My blood ran cold.
“What are you saying?””
Caroline laughed.
“Elizabeth, you were always so naive.””
I stepped closer to the phone.
“Where are you?””
She ignored me.
“Do you want to know why Sarah trusted you?””
I didn’t answer.
“Because she knew you would protect Daniel.””
A pause.
“But she also knew you would never look closely enough.””
Daniel’s voice was shaking.
“Look closely at what?””
Caroline whispered:
“At the adoption papers.””
I felt my heart stop.
“The adoption papers?””
“Yes.””
Daniel looked at me.
Caroline continued:
“Because the person who signed them wasn’t Elizabeth.””
Nobody moved.
My hands went cold.
“That’s impossible.””
Caroline’s voice became softer.
“Then look at the signature.””
A click.
The call ended.
Daniel stood frozen.
Then he looked at the folder.
At the old documents.
At the adoption papers hidden beneath everything else.
He slowly pulled them out.
His eyes moved to the bottom of the page.
And then he whispered:
“Mom…”
I looked at the paper.
At the signature.
And I knew before he said it.
Because it wasn’t my name.
It wasn’t my handwriting.
It wasn’t mine.
Daniel looked up at me.
“Who signed this for you?”” he asked.
May you like
And for the first time in twenty years…
I didn’t know the answer.
