Chapter 3 - THE WOMAN WHO DIED TWICEWORD NUMBER - 3
Daniel stared at the photograph for so long Natalie wondered whether he understood what he was looking at.
Lucas stood beside her.
He had retrieved the image from inside a wooden puzzle box hidden beneath the nursery window seat.
“Where did you get this?” Daniel asked.
Lucas looked toward Natalie rather than his father.
That hurt Daniel.
Natalie noticed.
“Lucas.”
The boy whispered:
“Mama gave it to Anna.”
“Anna Carter?”
A nod.
“When?”
“Before Evelyn made her go.”
Daniel sat.
His legs had stopped feeling reliable.
Maya.
Alive.
The photograph showed her thinner.
Hair shorter.
But unmistakable.
She sat in a pale hospital gown.
No visible restraints.
No smile.
Newspaper date:
February 17.
Four months earlier.
Daniel’s wife had supposedly been dead for twenty-two months.
He turned the photograph over again.
EVELYN KNOWS WHERE I AM.
DON’T TRUST HER.
His hands began shaking.
Natalie said carefully:
“Do you recognize the room?”
“No.”
“The hospital logo?”
None visible.
Lucas climbed onto the sofa.
“Anna said Mama was sick.”
Daniel looked at him.
“What else did Anna say?”
The boy immediately became anxious.
Natalie sat beside him.
“You’re not in trouble.”
Lucas looked toward his father.
Daniel understood.
He crouched.
“You are not in trouble.”
“Promise?”
“Yes.”
This time Daniel meant it with absolute clarity.
Lucas picked at a loose thread on the sofa.
“Anna said Mama didn’t go to heaven.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“What did you say?”
“I told her Evelyn said Mama died.”
“And?”
“Anna cried.”
“Why?”
“She said grown-ups lied.”
Daniel felt something twist inside his chest.
“How did Anna know?”
“She found letters.”
“What letters?”
Lucas shrugged.
Natalie asked:
“Did she show you where?”
Lucas pointed upstairs.
“Mama’s room.”
Daniel stood.
Evelyn remained detained in the study with two security men outside.
He wanted answers immediately.
Marco stopped him.
“Let us secure evidence first.”
Daniel hated that Marco was right.
Rage made people destroy facts.
They returned to Maya’s bedroom.
The servants’ passage explained how Evelyn entered.
Now they searched properly.
Behind a loose panel inside the vanity, Natalie found envelopes.
Twenty-three.
Addressed to Daniel.
All unopened.
All from Maya.
The earliest dated six weeks after her supposed death.
Daniel sat on the edge of the bed.
He could not open the first envelope.
Natalie did.
With permission.
Daniel,
If this reaches you, then Evelyn lied.
I survived the crash.
The letter trembled in Natalie’s hands.
Daniel looked toward the wall.
Maya continued.
I woke in Saint Maribel Recovery Center three days later. They told me you knew I was alive but believed I was unsafe around Lucas.
That sentence nearly destroyed him.
I have asked to speak to you. Evelyn says you refuse.
Daniel covered his face.
Natalie stopped.
He whispered:
“Keep going.”
Maya wrote that doctors told her she suffered severe psychiatric episodes after the accident.
Memory instability.
Paranoia.
Aggression.
She was told Daniel signed medical guardianship paperwork.
Daniel had signed nothing.
Another letter.
Daniel, please tell Lucas I did not leave him.
Another.
I am beginning to think nobody is giving you these.
Another.
A nurse told me someone pays privately and forbids calls.
Another.
I heard Evelyn’s voice today.
She was speaking with the director.
Another.
If you believe I am dangerous, please come tell me yourself.
Daniel stood abruptly.
He punched the wall.
Once.
The sound frightened Lucas downstairs.
Natalie caught Daniel’s wrist before a second blow.
“Stop.”
He stared at her.
“Don’t make Lucas hear another adult losing control.”
The words worked.
Daniel lowered his hand.
Blood formed across his knuckles.
He looked ashamed.
“You’re right.”
They read every letter.
Maya repeatedly asked about Lucas.
She described being medicated heavily.
Confused after treatments.
At one point she began doubting whether Daniel existed the way she remembered.
That was what prolonged manipulation could do.
Destroy trust in memory.
The later letters changed.
More precise.
Maya started secretly recording medication names.
Staff names.
Dates Evelyn visited.
The final envelope contained no letter.
Only a facility brochure.
SAINT MARIBEL NEUROBEHAVIORAL RECOVERY INSTITUTE.
Private.
Invitation only.
Northern Oregon.
Marco searched.
The facility existed.
But public records described it as a high-end neurological rehabilitation center.
Daniel called immediately.
Reception transferred him twice.
Then an administrator answered.
“Mr. Brooks?”
“You know who I am.”
Silence.
“Is Maya Brooks a patient there?”
“We cannot disclose patient information.”
“I am her husband.”
Another pause.
“Our records indicate Mrs. Brooks’s legal representative is Evelyn Hart.”
Daniel stopped breathing.
“What?”
“I’m sorry, sir. You will need to contact—”
He disconnected.
Marco was already assembling transportation.
Natalie looked toward Daniel.
“You’re going.”
“Yes.”
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
“You need someone Lucas trusts.”
“Lucas isn’t coming.”
“I know.”
Daniel frowned.
Natalie continued.
“He needs someone staying here too.”
That stopped him.
“You stay with Lucas.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know who else in this house is involved.”
“Then reduce staff access.”
Marco nodded.
“I’ll assign two people I trust personally.”
Daniel looked at Natalie.
Three days.
She had been in his house three days.
And his son trusted her more than employees who had known him for years.
That was not reassuring.
It was evidence.
Daniel went downstairs before leaving.
Lucas sat beneath a blanket.
The blue medicine bottle had been secured.
Daniel knelt.
“I’m going to find Mama.”
Lucas’s eyes widened.
“You believe me?”
Daniel’s throat closed.
“Yes.”
The boy stared.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Evelyn says I make stories.”
Daniel shook his head.
“I should have listened.”
Lucas’s face crumpled.
Daniel opened his arms.
The boy hesitated.
Then came closer.
Not fully.
Enough.
Daniel kissed his hair.
“I’ll come back.”
Lucas whispered:
“They all say that.”
The same sentence.
Daniel looked at Natalie.
She had answered differently.
So he did too.
“If something changes, I will tell you. I will not disappear.”
Lucas considered.
Then nodded.
Daniel left.
The drive to Oregon took hours despite private transport.
Marco called ahead only after they were fifteen minutes away.
The institute’s gates closed immediately.
Security claimed a “systems issue.”
Daniel’s men opened them anyway.
Inside, administrators panicked.
A lawyer appeared.
Then a doctor.
Dr. Adrian Kessler.
Lucas’s physician.
Daniel went still.
“You.”
Kessler’s face drained.
Marco understood instantly.
The same doctor who supposedly prescribed Lucas’s sedative also worked at the facility holding Maya.
“Where is my wife?”
Kessler raised his hands.
“Daniel, this is complicated.”
“That sentence has five seconds.”
“Maya was unstable after the crash.”
“Where?”
“We treated her.”
“Where is she?”
“She left.”
Daniel stopped.
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
Marco stepped closer.
“With who?”
Kessler looked toward the hallway.
“Nobody.”
“That’s impossible.”
“She escaped during a transfer.”
“Transfer to where?”
Silence.
Daniel grabbed the doctor by the jacket.
Marco did not stop him immediately.
“To where?”
Kessler whispered:
“Seattle.”
Daniel released him.
“Why Seattle?”
“Evelyn ordered a neurological reassessment.”
“Evelyn is not her family.”
“She had guardianship paperwork.”
“Forged.”
Kessler looked genuinely frightened.
Daniel understood.
The doctor knew.
Maybe not everything.
Enough.
“Where was the transfer supposed to end?”
Kessler gave an address.
A private clinic twenty minutes from the Brooks mansion.
Maya had been coming home.
Not to Daniel.
To Evelyn.
Marco’s phone rang.
Natalie.
He answered.
Her voice was whispering.
“Marco?”
“What?”
“I think someone is inside the house.”
Daniel grabbed the phone.
“Natalie?”
“I put Lucas in the safe room.”
“Who is there?”
“I don’t know.”
A sound behind her.
A door closing.
Then Natalie whispered:
“The hidden passage is open.”
Daniel’s blood turned cold.
May you like
She continued:
“And someone left Maya’s hospital bracelet on my bed.”
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