CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 3
THE WOMAN WHO WAS SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD
"Ethan."
The voice came through the phone again.
Soft.
Calm.
Almost painfully familiar.
"Hello."
Ethan couldn't breathe.
He knew that voice.
He had heard it every morning for twelve years.
He had heard it whisper his name when they were teenagers.
He had heard it laugh beside him at restaurants.
He had heard it cry in hospital corridors.
He had heard it say goodbye the night he believed she died.
Anna.
His wife.
The woman whose coffin he had watched disappear beneath the ground.
The woman whose death certificate had been signed.
The woman whose photograph sat beside his bed every night.
The woman who was supposed to be dead.
"Anna?"
Silence.
Then the voice answered.
"You need to listen to me."
Ethan gripped the phone.
"Where are you?"
"Not where you think."
"Are you alive?"
Another pause.
"Yes."
His knees nearly gave out.
Marcus grabbed his shoulder.
"Sir?"
Ethan barely noticed him.
"Let me talk to Sophie."
"You can't."
"Why?"
"Because she's in danger."
Ethan's voice rose.
"She's my daughter!"
"I know."
"Then let me talk to her."
"You need to trust me."
Ethan laughed bitterly.
"Trust you?"
His voice cracked.
"I buried you."
"I know."
"I watched them lower your coffin."
"I know."
"I spent three years believing I killed you."
"I know."
"Then tell me where you are!"
"I can't."
"Why?"
"Because they're listening."
Ethan looked around the room.
"Who?"
"The same people who are watching you now."
Marcus immediately moved toward the security monitors.
Ethan lowered his voice.
"How do I know you're really Anna?"
The woman on the phone went silent.
Then she said:
"Because when we were seventeen, you broke your wrist climbing the old oak tree behind my parents' house."
Ethan froze.
"You told everyone you fell."
"I did."
"No."
Her voice softened.
"You fell because you were trying to impress me."
Ethan closed his eyes.
He remembered.
The tree.
The summer rain.
Anna laughing.
His broken wrist.
A secret neither of them had ever told anyone.
But it wasn't enough.
"Tell me something only Anna would know."
She answered immediately.
"You hated the smell of hospitals after your father died."
Ethan's eyes filled with tears.
"And I used to sit outside your hospital room because you couldn't sleep."
He couldn't speak.
"Anna..."
"I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For letting you believe I was dead."
"Why did you?"
"Because if I hadn't..."
She stopped.
"What?"
"You and Sophie would be dead too."
Ethan stared at the phone.
"Who was after us?"
"I can't say."
"You've already said too much."
"I know."
"Then tell me everything."
"I will."
"When?"
"When you're alone."
"I am alone."
"No."
She whispered:
"You're never alone anymore."
The call ended.
Ethan stared at the screen.
Marcus looked at him.
"Was it her?"
Ethan didn't answer.
"Sir?"
Ethan finally whispered:
"I don't know."
Ten minutes later, Ethan was back at the mansion.
The security team had surrounded the property.
Every entrance was locked.
Every camera had been checked.
No one had entered.
No one had left.
But Sophie was missing.
Ethan ran upstairs.
"Sophie!"
No answer.
His heart stopped.
He opened his bedroom door.
The bed was empty.
The window was open.
Curtains moved in the wind.
"Sophie!"
Marcus ran into the room behind him.
"Search the house."
Guards scattered.
Ethan looked at the window.
It was twenty feet above the ground.
Impossible.
Then he noticed something.
A small piece of white paper lay on the bed.
He picked it up.
Three words.
ROOM 17.
Ethan's blood ran cold.
"No."
Marcus stared at the paper.
"What is it?"
"She's gone."
"Who?"
"My daughter."
They searched the property.
Nothing.
No broken doors.
No alarms.
No footprints.
No signs of forced entry.
It was as if Sophie had simply disappeared.
Then one of the guards shouted from downstairs.
"Sir!"
Ethan ran.
A security monitor displayed the west hallway.
The timestamp read:
3:17 a.m.
A figure was standing outside Ethan's bedroom.
A woman.
Long dark hair.
White coat.
She was looking directly at the camera.
Ethan leaned closer.
"Enhance it."
Marcus did.
The image sharpened.
Ethan stopped breathing.
The woman's face was partially visible.
It looked like Anna.
But the footage was too blurry to prove it.
Then the woman raised one hand.
She pointed toward the camera.
And mouthed four words.
Ethan read them.
You can't trust yourself.
The screen went black.
At 6:00 a.m., the mansion became a crime scene.
Police arrived.
Detectives searched every room.
They questioned Ethan.
They questioned Marcus.
They questioned the guards.
They questioned Celeste.
Celeste arrived with a lawyer.
She was crying.
"Ethan, I'm so sorry."
He stared at her.
"Where is my daughter?"
"I don't know."
"You tried to take her yesterday."
"I changed my mind."
"You bought her a ticket."
"I was scared."
"Of what?"
Celeste looked at the detective.
"I was afraid Anna's enemies would find her."
Ethan froze.
"Anna's enemies?"
Celeste nodded.
"She told me about them."
"You said Anna was unstable."
"I was wrong."
"You said she died."
"I thought she did."
Ethan stepped closer.
"Did you?"
Celeste looked at him.
For a second, something strange appeared in her eyes.
Fear.
Real fear.
"I don't know what happened to Anna."
Ethan believed her.
And that frightened him more than anything.
Because if Celeste wasn't lying—
then someone else had been controlling everything.
At 8:15 a.m., the detective found something.
A small electronic device.
Hidden beneath the floorboard in Ethan's bedroom.
It was a recording device.
The detective handed it to Ethan.
"It was activated last night."
Ethan stared at it.
"Can you play it?"
The detective nodded.
A voice came through.
Anna.
"I know Ethan will find this."
Ethan closed his eyes.
"He's going to think I betrayed him."
Static.
Then:
"I didn't."
More static.
"I never left him."
Ethan's eyes opened.
Anna continued.
"I left because I had no choice."
A man's voice interrupted.
"Who is he?"
Anna didn't answer.
The man spoke again.
"Who is Ethan protecting?"
Anna whispered:
"Sophie."
The recording ended.
Ethan stared at the device.
The detective looked at him.
"Do you recognize the man's voice?"
Ethan shook his head.
"No."
But deep inside, something felt wrong.
He did recognize it.
He just couldn't remember where.
At noon, Ethan received an email.
No sender.
No subject.
One attachment.
A photograph.
He opened it.
His hands began to tremble.
Anna.
Alive.
Standing outside a hospital.
The date was printed at the bottom.
October 14 — Three years ago.
Two months after the accident.
Ethan zoomed in.
Anna was holding something.
A folder.
Beside her stood Richard.
But that wasn't the strangest part.
Someone else was visible in the background.
A man wearing a dark coat.
Ethan zoomed in.
His face became visible.
Ethan stopped.
It was him.
Ethan.
His own face.
Standing behind Anna.
Alive.
Healthy.
Watching her.
He stared at the photograph.
Impossible.
He had been in New York.
He remembered being in New York.
He remembered the funeral.
He remembered every painful day after Anna's death.
Yet the photograph proved he had been in Lisbon.
With Anna.
Two months after she supposedly died.
Ethan whispered:
"What did they do to me?"
That afternoon, Marcus found the flight records.
"Ethan."
"What?"
"You flew to Lisbon."
"I know."
"No."
Marcus placed the papers on the desk.
"You flew here three times."
Ethan stared.
"Three?"
"Before the accident."
Marcus pointed to the first record.
"Six months before."
Second.
"Three months before."
Third.
"The day after Anna died."
Ethan shook his head.
"That's impossible."
Marcus looked at him.
"Your passport says otherwise."
Ethan sat down.
His memories were becoming unreliable.
He couldn't tell what was real anymore.
Then his phone rang.
The same unknown Portuguese number.
He answered.
"Hello?"
Anna's voice.
"You found the photograph."
"Yes."
"Then you know."
"Know what?"
"That you weren't supposed to remember."
"Remember what?"
"The night you came to Lisbon."
Ethan's breathing stopped.
"What happened?"
"You met me."
"When?"
"After the accident."
"I wasn't there."
"You were."
"Where?"
"Room 17."
Ethan closed his eyes.
"Why can't I remember?"
"Because you asked them to make you forget."
"Who?"
Silence.
"Anna."
"Who?"
"You."
Ethan opened his eyes.
"What?"
"You asked them to erase your memory."
"Why would I do that?"
"Because you had discovered who was behind everything."
"Who?"
Anna whispered:
"Your father."
Ethan went completely still.
"My father died ten years ago."
"I know."
"Then how could he be behind this?"
"He wasn't."
A pause.
"I was."
Ethan's heart stopped.
"What?"
"I lied to you."
The line went dead.
Ethan stared at the phone.
For the first time, he wasn't angry.
He was terrified.
That evening, Ethan went into Anna's old bedroom.
He locked the door.
He placed her photograph on the desk.
Then he opened the folder from Room 17.
There were dozens of documents.
Bank records.
Travel records.
Photographs.
Medical files.
But one page stood out.
It was a handwritten note.
Anna's handwriting.
ETHAN WILL NOT REMEMBER THE FIRST NIGHT.
Underneath:
DO NOT TELL HIM ABOUT LISBON UNTIL HE FINDS ROOM 17.
Then another sentence.
IF HE ASKS WHO I WAS RUNNING FROM, LIE.
Ethan stared.
Why would Anna tell him to lie?
He turned the page.
There was another message.
THE FIRST PERSON HE TRUSTS WILL BE THE PERSON WHO BETRAYS HIM.
Ethan whispered:
"Who?"
The answer was written beneath it.
But the ink had been deliberately scratched away.
Someone had tried to erase the name.
Ethan leaned closer.
He could still make out a few letters.
R.
I.
C.
He immediately thought of Richard.
Then stopped.
Because the final letter wasn't visible.
It might have been another name.
He didn't know.
Suddenly—
BANG.
Ethan turned.
The bedroom door shook.
Someone was outside.
"Ethan?"
Celeste's voice.
He didn't answer.
"Ethan, please."
"What?"
"I need to tell you something."
"Come in."
The door opened.
Celeste stepped inside.
Her face was pale.
She closed the door behind her.
"I found Sophie."
Ethan stood.
"Where?"
"She was taken to the old chapel."
Ethan's heart jumped.
"By who?"
"I don't know."
"Is she safe?"
Celeste nodded.
"She's waiting for you."
Ethan grabbed his coat.
"Take me there."
Celeste hesitated.
"But there's something you need to know first."
"What?"
"Anna was there."
Ethan stopped.
"What?"
"I saw her."
"When?"
"Tonight."
"Where?"
Celeste's eyes filled with tears.
"At the chapel."
Ethan stared at her.
"Why would I believe you?"
"Because she told me something only you would know."
"What?"
Celeste stepped closer.
"She said to tell you..."
She paused.
Then whispered:
"You were the one who drove the car."
Ethan's face went white.
"No."
Celeste nodded.
"She said you were drunk."
"No."
"She said you lost control."
"That's a lie."
"She said you survived because you weren't in the passenger seat."
Ethan's breathing became shallow.
"Stop."
Celeste's voice softened.
"And she said you made her promise never to tell Sophie the truth."
Ethan backed away.
"No."
"You asked me to help you keep the secret."
"No."
"You told me Anna had to disappear."
Ethan shook his head violently.
"I would never."
Celeste looked at him.
"Then why don't you remember?"
Silence.
Ethan looked toward Anna's photograph.
For one terrible second, her eyes seemed almost alive.
Then a memory flashed.
Rain.
A road.
Anna screaming.
A steering wheel.
A man's hand.
A gun.
Then—
Darkness.
Ethan collapsed against the desk.
Celeste rushed toward him.
But before she could touch him, Ethan whispered:
"I remember."
Celeste froze.
"What?"
Ethan looked up.
His face had changed.
"I remember the night of the accident."
Celeste stepped backward.
"What happened?"
Ethan stared at her.
"You weren't there."
Celeste's face drained of color.
"Who was?"
Ethan's voice was barely audible.
"Richard."
Celeste stopped breathing.
"And another person."
"Who?"
Ethan looked toward the window.
He could see his own reflection.
But for one second, he wasn't sure whose face he was seeing.
Then he whispered:
"Anna."
Celeste shook her head.
"No."
Ethan turned.
"She was alive."
Celeste began crying.
"You don't understand."
"I remember her."
"You can't."
"I saw her."
"No."
"She was standing beside the car."
Celeste backed toward the door.
Ethan stepped closer.
"What did you do?"
Celeste's voice broke.
"I didn't kill her."
"Then who did?"
Celeste opened the door.
Before she left, she looked at him.
"Ask yourself why Anna never came home."
Then she disappeared down the hallway.
Ethan stood alone.
His phone vibrated.
A new message.
One photograph.
Sophie.
She was sitting inside an old chapel.
Alive.
Safe.
Beside her stood a woman.
Her face was hidden by shadows.
Under the photograph was one sentence.
COME ALONE.
Ethan stared at the image.
Then another message appeared.
AND BRING THE ORIGINAL PHOTOGRAPH.
He looked at Anna's picture.
The hidden number.
The secret room.
The erased memories.
The woman who was supposed to be dead.
And the daughter who was now being used as bait.
Ethan picked up his coat.
He knew it was a trap.
But he also knew he had no choice.
Because somewhere inside that chapel was the truth.
And for the first time in three years, Ethan was beginning to remember.
May you like
He just wasn't sure whether remembering would save him—
or destroy him.
