Chapter 4 - THE DEAD WOMAN ON THE SCREEN
Adrien watched the video six times before he could speak.
Each viewing made the impossible feel more real.
The woman in the garage moved exactly as Émilie had moved. She tilted her head in the same familiar way, brushed her hair behind her ear with the same graceful gesture, and wore the coat he had given her on their seventh wedding anniversary.
But Émilie was dead.
He had buried her.
He had stood beside her grave while Lila cried against his chest.
He had spent three years learning how to raise their daughter without the woman who had been the center of their lives.
Now he was watching someone who appeared to be his wife standing beside the vehicle that nearly killed him.
"Play it again," Adrien whispered.
Daniel hesitated.
"Mr. Valmont—"
"Please."
Daniel restarted the recording.
The woman approached the maintenance worker and handed him something small.
An envelope, perhaps.
The worker placed it inside his jacket.
Then she walked away.
The timestamp showed 8:14 p.m.
Adrien's crash had occurred at 9:07.
Less than an hour later.
Sophie stood behind his wheelchair, one hand resting on the handle.
"Could it be an old recording with an incorrect timestamp?"
Daniel nodded.
"That's one possibility. Another is impersonation or manipulated footage. We need the original recording system and its metadata before drawing conclusions."
Adrien barely heard him.
He remembered Émilie's funeral.
The closed casket.
The hospital's explanation that her injuries had made viewing impossible.
The death certificate signed by Gabriel Delacroix.
And Victor standing beside him, insisting that he should not subject himself to further pain.
Adrien's stomach turned.
"Gabriel signed her death certificate."
Claire looked up sharply.
"Are you certain?"
"Yes."
"Where did she supposedly die?"
"At a private clinic outside Lyon. She was traveling when the accident happened."
Daniel closed the laptop.
"Then we need to verify the original death records, the identity confirmation, and the circumstances surrounding her burial."
Adrien stared at him.
"Are you saying my wife could be alive?"
"I'm saying the evidence is inconsistent. We shouldn't decide what it means before verifying it."
That was the rational answer.
But Adrien had loved Émilie for eleven years.
He knew her face.
Her gestures.
The way she held her shoulders when she was nervous.
The woman in the video had looked directly toward the camera for less than two seconds.
And in those two seconds, Adrien had felt his entire world collapse.
Later that evening, Sophie found him sitting alone beside the window.
He had refused dinner.
His pain medication remained untouched on the bedside table.
She approached quietly.
"You should eat something."
"I'm not hungry."
"You need your strength."
Adrien looked at her.
"Do you think it's her?"
Sophie pulled a chair beside him.
"I don't know."
"Everyone keeps saying that."
"Because you deserve the truth, not another comforting lie."
He looked away.
For a long time, neither spoke.
Finally, Adrien whispered, "Lila used to ask when her mother was coming home."
Sophie felt her throat tighten.
"What did you tell her?"
"That some people can't come home, even when we love them."
He swallowed.
"Eventually, she stopped asking."
Sophie reached for his hand.
Adrien did not pull away.
"If Émilie is alive," he said, "then someone stole three years from my daughter."
His voice broke.
"And if she was involved in my accident, then I don't know who I married."
Sophie held his hand more tightly.
"You don't have to answer everything tonight."
But Adrien was no longer looking at her.
He was remembering something.
A conversation from the week before Émilie's supposed death.
She had been unusually anxious.
She had asked questions about the Valmont Group's offshore subsidiaries.
She had wanted to know why Victor attended private meetings with Gabriel.
Adrien had dismissed her concerns.
He had been consumed by a difficult acquisition.
He remembered their final argument.
Émilie had stood in the doorway of his office.
"Adrien, there are things about your family you don't know."
He had barely looked up.
"Then tell me."
"Not here."
"Émilie, I'm busy."
She had stared at him with tears in her eyes.
"One day, you're going to wish you had listened."
He had never forgotten those words.
Now they returned with unbearable force.
Adrien turned toward Sophie.
"She tried to warn me."
"About what?"
"I don't know."
His phone vibrated.
A message from an unknown number.
No text.
Only a photograph.
Adrien opened it.
The image showed Lila sleeping in her hospital bed.
Taken from inside the family suite.
The timestamp was less than five minutes old.
Beneath the photograph was a single sentence.
May you like
Stop looking for your wife, or your daughter will join her.
END OF CHAPTER 4
