Chapter 8 - The Woman Across the Street
The woman stood beneath a black umbrella.
She wasn't moving.
She was simply watching us.
My mother recognized her.
I knew because all the color disappeared from her face.
“Who is she?”
My mother whispered:
“Victoria.”
Charles stood.
“That's impossible.”
Thomas turned toward the window.
The woman raised one hand.
Then walked away.
Charles rushed outside.
Daniel followed.
I stayed with my mother.
“Who is Victoria?”
My mother wouldn't answer.
“Mom.”
“She was your father's sister.”
I froze.
“My aunt?”
“Yes.”
“Why would she be watching us?”
“Because she knows where your sister is.”
I felt my stomach tighten.
“Does she know where Charles was?”
My mother nodded.
“She knew everything.”
Charles returned a few minutes later.
“She's gone.”
Thomas looked at him.
“Did she leave anything?”
Charles placed an envelope on the table.
A motel key fell out.
Room 214.
My mother closed her eyes.
“She's sending us there.”
Daniel looked at me.
“We go together.”
Charles nodded.
“No one goes alone.”
We drove to the motel.
The room was empty.
But there was a photograph on the bed.
The same girl.
Older now.
Standing beside a woman whose face had been scratched out.
On the back was a sentence.
She doesn't know who she is.
I turned the photograph over.
Another line was written beneath it.
But Emily does.
My heart pounded.
A sound came from the bathroom.
Daniel immediately stepped in front of me.
Charles opened the door.
Nothing.
Only a mirror.
Written across it in red lipstick:
CHARLES WAS NEVER THE TARGET.
I felt cold.
“Then who was?”
A phone rang.
On the bed.
Unknown number.
Charles answered.
A woman's voice whispered:
“Emily?”
“Yes.”
“You have my eyes.”
I stopped breathing.
“Are you my sister?”
Silence.
Then:
“Yes.”
Tears filled my eyes.
“What is your name?”
The woman hesitated.
“They call me Anna.”
My mother covered her mouth.
Anna continued:
“I don't know my real name.”
I asked:
“Where are you?”
“Safe.”
“Who are you with?”
Silence.
“Anna?”
A man's voice suddenly came through.
“Don't tell her.”
The line went dead.
Charles looked at me.
“We need to leave.”
But before we could move, the motel room door opened.
A woman stepped inside.
Dark hair.
Brown eyes.
The crescent birthmark near her eyebrow.
My sister.
She stared at me.
Then at Charles.
Then at my mother.
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Mom?”
My mother couldn't speak.
Anna whispered:
“You really did have three children.”
She took one step forward.
Then stopped.
Because behind her, another man entered the room.
May you like
He locked the door.
And Charles immediately recognized him...
