Chapter 3 - THE PERSON I TRUSTED MOST
The message stayed on my screen.
LINDA KNOWS WHERE CLAIRE IS.
For several seconds, I couldn't move.
I read it again.
Then again.
My fingers tightened around the phone.
Linda.
Claire's mother.
The woman who had spent years defending my wife.
The woman who had just told me Claire wanted a faithful husband.
The woman who sounded like she hated me.
She knew.
Michael watched my face.
"What happened?"
I looked at him.
"Claire's mother knows where she is."
His expression changed.
"Are you sure?"
I showed him the message.
He read it carefully.
Then he looked at me.
"Who sent this?"
"Unknown number."
"Don't reply."
I frowned.
"Why?"
"Because right now, we don't know who is helping you."
The sentence bothered me.
"Everyone keeps saying that."
Michael closed the folder.
"Because someone has been moving pieces around you, Daniel."
I looked at the documents scattered across his desk.
The fake message.
The missing money.
The photos.
Claire's evidence.
Everything felt like a puzzle where I was the last person to see the picture.
"I need to talk to Linda."
Michael stood.
"I'll come with you."
"No."
"Daniel—"
"I need answers."
"You need to stay calm."
I almost laughed.
Calm.
My son was somewhere I didn't know.
My wife had disappeared.
Someone might have framed me.
And everyone around me seemed to know more than I did.
"I am done sitting in offices while people make decisions about my family."
Michael studied me.
Then he nodded.
"Then don't make another mistake."
"What mistake?"
"Thinking this is only about Claire leaving you."
I looked at him.
"What do you mean?"
Michael picked up the documents.
"Someone wanted Claire gone."
The words hit differently.
Because they changed everything.
This wasn't just my marriage falling apart.
Someone had been waiting.
Planning.
Watching.
I left the office ten minutes later.
The drive to Linda's house felt longer than it should have.
Every traffic light.
Every turn.
Every second.
My mind replayed the last few weeks.
Claire sitting quietly at breakfast.
Claire asking me if I was happy.
Claire looking at me like she already knew the answer.
I remembered one night.
Three weeks before she left.
I came home after midnight.
She was sitting in the nursery.
Holding Noah.
The lights were off.
I asked her why she was still awake.
She smiled.
A strange smile.
Not angry.
Not sad.
Just tired.
"I wanted to remember this moment."
I had laughed.
"Remember what?"
She looked at Noah.
"The last time things felt normal."
At the time, I thought she was being emotional.
Now I realized she was saying goodbye.
I arrived at Linda's house forty minutes later.
I didn't knock.
I rang the doorbell.
Once.
Twice.
The door opened.
Linda stood there.
She looked exactly like she sounded on the phone.
Cold.
Disappointed.
"Daniel."
"Where is Claire?"
She didn't answer.
"Where is my son?"
Her expression changed slightly.
Not fear.
Something else.
Pain.
"You still think this is about you."
I stepped forward.
"I am his father."
"And Claire is his mother."
"That doesn't answer my question."
Linda looked behind me.
Then back at me.
"Did you come alone?"
I noticed the question.
"Why?"
"Answer me."
"Yes."
She opened the door wider.
"Come inside."
I walked in.
The house was quiet.
Too quiet.
"Where is Claire?"
Linda closed the door.
"She didn't want you to find her yet."
My anger rose.
"She took my son."
"She protected your son."
"From me?"
Linda didn't respond.
That silence hurt.
"Everyone keeps acting like I am some monster."
She looked at me.
"Do you want me to tell you what I saw?"
I didn't answer.
"Claire was pregnant and working until she couldn't stand."
I looked away.
"She wanted you there."
"I was working."
"No."
Her voice became sharper.
"You were choosing."
The words landed.
"You chose dinners with Vanessa."
"I made mistakes."
"Six months is not a mistake."
I said nothing.
Because I had no defense.
Linda walked to a cabinet and pulled out an envelope.
"She left this for you."
I stared at it.
"Why didn't she give it to me?"
"Because she knew you would only listen after you lost something."
My chest tightened.
I opened the envelope.
Inside was a letter.
Claire's handwriting.
Daniel,
If you are reading this, then you finally realized I wasn't leaving because of one night.
I stopped.
My throat tightened.
I continued.
I wanted to believe you would change.
I wanted to believe Noah would grow up seeing his father as the man you promised to become.
But I discovered something worse than the affair.
My eyes moved faster.
Something worse.
I looked at Linda.
"What did she find?"
Linda looked away.
"Keep reading."
I continued.
The person who was using your mistakes against you wasn't trying to destroy our marriage.
They were trying to destroy your life.
My heart started beating faster.
I read the next line.
They wanted you angry.
They wanted you distracted.
They wanted you blaming yourself.
Then the final sentence.
And they wanted Noah gone.
I lowered the letter.
The room felt smaller.
"Who?"
Linda didn't answer.
"Who wanted my son gone?"
She walked to the window.
"Claire found something connected to your company."
"My company?"
"Yes."
I shook my head.
"No."
"Daniel."
"No one would risk taking my son."
Linda turned.
"You still don't understand."
"What?"
"Claire wasn't afraid of losing you."
She paused.
"She was afraid of losing Noah."
I looked down at the letter.
My hands were shaking.
"Where is she?"
Linda was silent.
Then she said:
"Safe."
"Where?"
"I can't tell you."
My anger returned.
"You don't get to decide that."
"No, Daniel."
Her voice softened.
"Claire decided."
I stared at her.
"Why?"
"Because she doesn't know who she can trust."
The sentence cut deeper than I expected.
"She doesn't trust me."
"No."
Linda looked at me.
"She doesn't trust anyone."
My phone suddenly vibrated.
I looked down.
A new message.
From Claire.
My heart stopped.
I opened it.
There was only a picture.
A photo of Noah sleeping.
My son.
Safe.
Alive.
But behind him was something that made my blood turn cold.
A familiar object.
A small wooden horse.
I knew that toy.
It belonged to someone else.
Someone who had no reason to be near my family.
I looked closer.
At the bottom of the picture was a handwritten note.
Three words.
"HE FOUND US."
Then another message arrived.
Claire had sent a location.
And before I could say anything, Linda looked at the screen and whispered the one name I never expected to hear.
"Daniel..."
Her face turned pale.
"That's not where Claire is hiding."
I looked at her.
"Then where is she?"
May you like
Linda stepped toward me.
Because the location on my phone was the address of the one person who had been helping me find my wife.
