Chapter 3 - Seven Months Ago
Ethan's story began seven months earlier.
At the police station, he sat beneath fluorescent lights while Claire held his hand.
I sat across from them.
My arm was bandaged.
My ribs hurt.
But I couldn't stop thinking about the photographs.
The detective placed a recorder on the table.
“Mr. Cole, start from the beginning.”
Ethan took a breath.
“Seven months ago, I discovered Nathan had been following Emily.”
I looked at him.
“Why me?”
“That was the question I couldn't answer.”
He explained that he had first noticed something strange after Claire introduced Nathan to us.
Nathan had seemed charming.
Perfect.
He remembered everyone's names.
He knew Claire's favorite wine.
He knew her mother's birthday.
He even knew that I hated roses because they triggered childhood allergies.
At the time, we thought it was thoughtful.
Ethan hadn't.
“He knew too much,” Ethan said.
“So you investigated him?”
“Yes.”
“And that's why you disappeared?”
Ethan nodded.
“I found a private security company receiving payments from Nathan's accounts.”
The detective leaned forward.
“What did the company do?”
“Surveillance.”
“On whom?”
Ethan looked at me.
“Emily.”
My stomach tightened.
He continued.
“They tracked your car. Your phone. Your work schedule. Your family.”
“Why?”
“We didn't know.”
“Then what happened?”
“I confronted Nathan.”
According to Ethan, Nathan had invited him to his estate.
They argued.
Nathan denied everything.
Ethan left.
But he never made it home.
A van intercepted him two blocks away.
He woke up in a locked basement.
“For seven months?”
Ethan nodded.
“I was moved between three locations.”
“Why didn't they kill you?”
“Because Nathan needed something from me.”
“What?”
Ethan looked at Claire.
“The truth.”
Claire frowned.
“What truth?”
Ethan reached into his pocket.
The detective immediately stood.
“Where did you get that?”
Ethan held up a small brass key.
“I stole it before they moved me.”
The key had a number engraved on it.
The detective examined it.
“What's it open?”
“The folder.”
My pulse quickened.
“The one behind the wall?”
“Yes.”
Claire stood.
“Then we go back.”
The detective shook his head.
“No. We secure the property first.”
But before anyone could continue, my phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
I opened the message.
There was one sentence.
YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED UNDER THE FLOOR.
I showed it to the detective.
His expression changed.
“Don't respond.”
Another message appeared.
This time there was a photograph.
Me.
Standing inside the police station.
Taken less than a minute earlier.
My blood turned cold.
Someone was watching us.
Inside the station.
The detective immediately ordered the building locked down.
But Ethan wasn't looking at the phone.
He was staring at the photograph.
“That isn't possible.”
“What?”
He pointed at the reflection in the glass behind me.
A man stood in the hallway.
Black jacket.
Gray cap.
Watching through the doorway.
Then he disappeared.
The detective ran.
Two officers followed.
Seconds later, we heard shouting.
A door slammed.
Then silence.
When the detective returned, his face was grim.
“He's gone.”
Ethan closed his eyes.
“I know who it is.”
“Who?”
Ethan looked at Nathan's photograph on the evidence board.
“His brother.”
Claire froze.
“Nathan doesn't have a brother.”
May you like
Ethan's expression was grim.
“That's what Nathan wanted everyone to believe.”
