Chapter 5 - THE NAME FROM THE PASTThe sentence made no sense.
Phoebe had died five years earlier.
Emmett had met Claire three years after that.
At least, that was what we believed.
“What are you talking about?”
Emmett asked.
Claire looked at the officer.
“Can I speak to him?”
“No.”
“Then tell him to check Phoebe's old email.”
Emmett stared at her.
“Why?”
Claire climbed into the cruiser.
“Because I met your wife before you ever met me.”
The door closed.
That night, Emmett and I searched Phoebe's old laptop.
He had kept it in storage.
It took hours.
Then we found Claire's name.
An email dated seven years earlier.
Claire Monroe.
Not Claire Donovan.
The subject line read:
THANK YOU FOR TODAY.
Phoebe had worked as a social worker.
Claire had once been one of the women she helped.
The messages told the story.
Claire had been twenty-eight.
Recently divorced.
Nearly homeless.
Phoebe helped her find temporary housing and employment.
One email from Claire read:
You made me feel like I wasn't disposable.
I sat back.
Emmett looked stunned.
There were dozens of messages.
Phoebe encouraged her.
Checked on her.
Helped her rebuild.
Then the correspondence ended.
Two years later, Phoebe died.
Claire claimed she learned about it from an online obituary.
Years after that, she met Emmett at a charity event.
Coincidence?
Maybe.
But neither of us believed in that coincidence anymore.
Emmett visited Claire in custody.
When he returned, he looked devastated.
“She knew who I was from the beginning.”
I felt sick.
“She approached you intentionally?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“She said she wanted to thank me.”
“For Phoebe?”
“She wanted to meet the family of the woman who saved her.”
I shook my head.
“And then?”
“She fell in love with me.”
Perhaps she had.
Human beings are capable of holding love and selfishness in the same heart.
That is what makes betrayal so complicated.
Emmett sat down.
“She said being in our house made her feel like Phoebe was still saving everyone except her.”
I understood then.
Claire had not merely been jealous of a dead woman.
She had worshiped her first.
And somewhere along the way, gratitude had curdled into resentment.
“She wanted to become Phoebe.”
Emmett shook his head.
“No.”
He looked toward Margot's room.
“She wanted to prove she mattered more.”
That was worse.
Claire accepted a plea agreement months later.
The kidnapping charge was reduced because Margot had not been physically harmed and Claire had surrendered quickly.
She received probation, mandatory therapy, and a strict protective order.
She could not contact Margot.
The marriage was annulled.
Life began rebuilding itself.
Slowly.
Then, six months later, I received a letter.
No return address.
Inside were four handwritten pages.
May you like
The first sentence read:
Walter, there is one lie I still haven't confessed.
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