Chapter 7 - FOUND
We left the hospital two hours earlier than planned.
A nurse protested.
Rachel argued.
I signed paperwork.
My hands shook the entire time.
Emily was healthy.
I was exhausted.
But I refused to sit in a room and wait for Derek to appear.
Rachel had booked a small rental cottage outside Washington, Pennsylvania, under a friend’s account.
“No family house,” she said.
“No predictable address.”
It sounded extreme.
Twenty-four hours earlier, I would have thought it was extreme.
Then my husband had used a credit card in my name to build evidence that I was financially unstable.
Extreme had changed definitions.
We drove in silence.
Emily slept in the back seat.
Every few minutes, I turned around just to make sure she was breathing.
“You’re going to make yourself crazy doing that,” Rachel said.
“I know.”
“Do you want me to say she’s okay every thirty seconds?”
“Yes.”
“She’s okay.”
Thirty seconds later, I asked, “Still?”
Rachel smiled despite everything.
“Still.”
The cottage was small and ugly.
I loved it immediately.
One bedroom.
Old sofa.
Wood-paneled walls.
No Derek.
Rachel carried the bags in while I stood holding Emily against my chest.
For the first time, I imagined a life that didn’t include asking permission.
Then Rachel froze at the window.
“What?”
She didn’t answer.
“Rachel.”
“Don’t move.”
My heart started racing.
“What do you see?”
“A car.”
“So?”
“It’s been parked across the road since we got here.”
I moved closer.
Dark SUV.
Tinted windows.
Engine running.
“Is it him?”
“I can’t tell.”
Rachel pulled the curtain.
“Call the police.”
“Maybe we’re overreacting.”
She stared at me.
“You were discharged from a hospital two hours ago because your husband may have been trying to track the insurance claim.”
I reached for her phone.
Before I could dial, the SUV pulled away.
Slowly.
Too slowly.
Rachel memorized the plate.
“Pennsylvania tags,” she said.
“So not Derek’s car.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
That night, Emily woke every ninety minutes.
I barely slept.
At 5:20 a.m., I heard a vehicle on the gravel.
I sat straight up.
Rachel appeared in the bedroom doorway holding a fireplace poker.
“Stay here.”
“Are you insane?”
“Probably.”
She crept toward the front window.
A truck stopped outside.
A man climbed out carrying an envelope.
Delivery driver.
Rachel lowered the poker.
I laughed weakly.
“Great security system.”
“Shut up.”
The envelope was addressed to me.
No return name.
Inside was a printed photograph.
Derek standing beside Kelly outside a hotel.
His hand on her lower back.
On the reverse side, someone had written:
HE’S BEEN LYING TO BOTH OF YOU.
There was a second line beneath it.
ASK HIM ABOUT THE HOUSE.
I stared at Rachel.
“What about the house?”
She looked toward the folder on the table.
We already knew the deed was in Derek’s name.
At least, that was what he had always told me.
Rachel opened her laptop.
Twenty minutes later, she found the county property record.
My name was on the original deed.
It had been removed eighteen months earlier.
And the signature authorizing the transfer looked almost exactly like mine.
May you like
Almost.
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