Chapter 8 — Lauren Comes Back
Chapter 8 — Lauren Comes Back
Lauren came back at 5:17 in the morning.
She didn't knock.
She didn't call.
She stood across the street in the rain, staring at our house.
James noticed her first.
He had barely slept.
Neither had I.
After my father told us that Lauren had my mother's wedding ring, neither of us had been able to think about anything else.
The ring.
The evidence.
Daniel.
My mother's silence.
And the people who had spent thirty years trying to bury a truth they believed was already dead.
Then James saw Lauren.
He stood at the window.
“She's here.”
My stomach tightened.
“Where?”
He pointed across the street.
I saw her.
Lauren stood beneath a broken streetlamp.
Her hair was wet.
Her coat was soaked through.
She looked nothing like the confident woman who had slapped my daughter at Christmas.
She looked terrified.
I opened the front door.
James caught my arm.
“No.”
“She came here.”
“That doesn't mean we let her in.”
“I need to know why she has the ring.”
“And if she's being followed?”
I stopped.
He was right.
James checked the street.
No cars.
No pedestrians.
No movement.
Still, something felt wrong.
Then Lauren raised her hand.
She was holding something.
A small velvet box.
My heart stopped.
The ring.
I stepped outside.
James followed.
Lauren looked at me.
“Rachel.”
“What are you doing here?”
She swallowed.
“I need your help.”
I stared at her.
“You hurt my daughter.”
“I know.”
“You lied to me.”
“I know.”
“You stole from my parents.”
“I know.”
“You have Mom's wedding ring.”
Her face crumpled.
“Yes.”
“Give it to me.”
She looked down at the box.
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because if I do, they'll kill me.”
James stepped forward.
“Who?”
Lauren looked at him.
“Eric.”
My stomach tightened.
“Where is he?”
“I don't know.”
“Then why are you afraid?”
“Because he knows where I live.”
“Call the police.”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
She whispered:
“Because someone inside the police department works for him.”
James's expression hardened.
“Do you have proof?”
Lauren nodded.
“I brought it.”
We let her inside.
Not because we trusted her.
Because we needed answers.
Lauren sat at the kitchen table.
Her hands were shaking.
James locked the doors.
Then checked every window.
“Start talking.”
Lauren looked at me.
“I never wanted to hurt Emma.”
I felt my anger rise.
“You did.”
“I know.”
“Then explain.”
She closed her eyes.
“I was being threatened.”
“By Eric?”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
“Money.”
I stared at her.
“Twenty thousand dollars?”
She nodded.
“Where did you get it?”
“From Mom's account.”
“Why?”
“He said if I didn't pay him, he'd expose something.”
“What?”
Lauren looked at me.
“Your mother's medical records.”
I froze.
“What about them?”
“They weren't normal.”
“What does that mean?”
“They showed something about your pregnancy.”
I felt cold.
“Emma?”
Lauren nodded.
“He said your family had hidden a genetic condition.”
I remembered the medical report.
The one warning that I shouldn't become pregnant.
“That report was forged.”
Lauren stared.
“What?”
“It wasn't my report.”
She looked confused.
“Eric told me it was.”
I stared at her.
“Then he lied to you.”
Lauren shook her head.
“No.”
She opened the velvet box.
The ring was inside.
“He showed me another document.”
“What document?”
“A genetic report.”
“For whom?”
“You.”
My heart pounded.
“What did it say?”
Lauren swallowed.
“That you weren't genetically related to your father.”
“I already know that.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“That's not the important part.”
“Then what is?”
Lauren looked at James.
“Your DNA matched Daniel Mercer's.”
I couldn't breathe.
“That isn't surprising.”
“He wasn't your biological father.”
I stared.
“Yes, he was.”
“No.”
Lauren's voice trembled.
“He wasn't.”
Silence.
“What are you saying?”
She pushed another document across the table.
I picked it up.
A laboratory report.
Two DNA profiles.
Mine.
And Daniel's.
The result:
99.98% biological parent probability.
I looked at James.
Then at Lauren.
“I know.”
“No.”
Lauren shook her head.
“You don't understand.”
She pointed at the report.
“This test was done after Daniel died.”
My blood froze.
“By whom?”
“Eric.”
“Why?”
“Because he wanted to prove something.”
“What?”
“That Daniel wasn't your biological father.”
I frowned.
“But the report says he was.”
Lauren looked at me.
“That's why he was scared.”
“Who?”
“Eric.”
James took the document.
He read it carefully.
“There's something wrong.”
“What?”
“The laboratory.”
He pointed to the name.
“This lab closed fifteen years ago.”
Lauren's face went pale.
“So?”
“So this report couldn't have been generated recently.”
He looked at the date.
“It's dated six months ago.”
My heart stopped.
“Then it's fake.”
Lauren whispered:
“No.”
James looked at her.
“Who gave it to you?”
“Eric.”
“Six months ago?”
“Yes.”
“Then he fabricated it.”
Lauren shook her head.
“He didn't.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I saw the original.”
“Where?”
“In his office.”
James stood.
“Where is his office?”
“I don't know.”
“You've been there.”
“Once.”
“Where?”
Lauren looked terrified.
“At the Mercer building.”
My stomach tightened.
“The Mercer building doesn't exist.”
“It does.”
“Where?”
“Downtown.”
“What's the address?”
Lauren gave it.
James immediately wrote it down.
Then he looked at me.
“We're going.”
Lauren stood.
“I need to come.”
“No.”
“I can get you inside.”
“You're staying here.”
“If Eric finds me—”
“He won't.”
“How do you know?”
James looked at her.
“Because he'll be looking for the ring.”
Lauren looked down.
She was right.
The ring was the leverage.
And she had brought it directly to us.
Before we left, Lauren said something.
“Rachel.”
I stopped.
“What?”
“I'm sorry.”
I didn't answer.
“I know you don't believe me.”
“No.”
“I deserve that.”
“Yes.”
She nodded.
“But I need you to know something.”
“What?”
“I didn't slap Emma because I hated her.”
My expression hardened.
“Then why?”
“Because Eric told me to.”
Silence.
I felt sick.
“He told you to hurt my daughter?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
“Don't lie.”
“I'm not.”
“What did he say?”
Lauren began crying.
“He said if I didn't make you afraid, you'd start asking questions.”
“What questions?”
“About Daniel.”
My heart stopped.
“You hurt Emma to distract me?”
“Yes.”
I stepped backward.
“So while I was trying to understand why my daughter was hurt…”
“You weren't looking at your family.”
“You were protecting the people behind this.”
“I was trying to survive.”
I looked at her.
“And my daughter?”
Lauren lowered her head.
“I was wrong.”
“That doesn't make it better.”
“I know.”
I turned away.
James put his hand on my shoulder.
“Let's go.”
The Mercer building was exactly where Lauren said it would be.
An old twelve-story structure with black windows and a faded brass sign.
No company name.
No employees.
No security desk.
But the front door opened when Lauren entered the access code.
James looked at her.
“You've been here more than once.”
“No.”
“Then how do you know the code?”
“Eric gave it to me.”
We entered.
The lobby was empty.
The elevator opened immediately.
The button for the tenth floor was already lit.
We stepped inside.
The doors closed.
No music.
No camera.
Nothing.
Then the elevator stopped at floor ten.
The doors opened.
A hallway stretched before us.
At the end was a single office.
The door was open.
James drew his weapon.
I froze.
“Wait.”
“What?”
“Someone wants us here.”
He nodded.
“Stay behind me.”
We entered.
The office was empty.
A desk.
Two chairs.
A computer.
A wall covered with photographs.
My photographs.
My childhood.
My wedding.
My pregnancy.
Emma.
My parents.
James.
Lauren.
I felt sick.
“How long have they been watching me?”
James moved toward the wall.
“Years.”
Then he saw something.
A photograph of Daniel.
Taken three days before he died.
Beside him stood my mother.
And behind them—
my father.
But someone else was there.
A fourth man.
James stared.
“Do you recognize him?”
I shook my head.
Lauren did.
She stepped backward.
“No.”
“What?”
“I know him.”
“Who?”
Lauren whispered:
“Marcus Hale.”
My heart stopped.
The same man who had been watching us.
The same man who had appeared in the photograph.
The same man my father claimed was only an investigator.
Lauren looked terrified.
“He isn't an investigator.”
“Then what is he?”
She swallowed.
“He was Daniel's partner.”
Before I could ask another question, the computer screen turned on.
A video began playing automatically.
Marcus Hale appeared on screen.
Older.
Calm.
Smiling.
“Rachel.”
I froze.
“If you're watching this, you've found the office.”
James stepped closer.
Marcus continued.
“You've also found Lauren.”
Lauren looked at the floor.
Marcus smiled.
“She was never meant to bring you here.”
My stomach tightened.
“But she did.”
He paused.
“Which means the situation has changed.”
James shouted at the screen.
“Where are you?”
Marcus ignored him.
“Rachel, you have been told many versions of your father's death.”
I stared at the screen.
“Most of them are false.”
My heart pounded.
“Daniel did not die because of the Mercer family.”
I held my breath.
“He died because of your family.”
The screen went black.
I stared.
“What does that mean?”
Then another video started.
My father appeared.
Younger.
Standing in the same office.
He was speaking to Marcus.
“I'll give you Daniel's location.”
I froze.
Marcus asked:
“And what do you want in return?”
My father answered:
“My daughter's safety.”
Marcus smiled.
“Done.”
The recording ended.
Lauren started crying.
I couldn't move.
My father had traded Daniel's location for my safety.
But that wasn't the worst part.
The final video showed my mother.
She was sitting in the same chair.
Marcus stood behind her.
He placed a document in front of her.
She signed it.
Then he asked:
“Do you understand what happens if you break the agreement?”
My mother nodded.
“You'll take Rachel.”
“Yes.”
“And Daniel?”
“He dies.”
My mother closed her eyes.
“I understand.”
The video ended.
I stared at the screen.
My mother had known.
My father had known.
They had both made a deal.
And Daniel had died because of it.
Then the office door slammed shut.
Lauren screamed.
James grabbed my arm.
The lights went out.
A voice came through the speakers.
“Thank you for bringing me the ring.”
I looked at Lauren.
She was no longer holding the velvet box.
Her hands were empty.
My heart stopped.
“Where is it?”
She stared at me.
“I had it.”
James checked the table.
Nothing.
Then the speakers crackled.
“Look behind you.”
We turned.
A screen lit up.
A live video appeared.
Our house.
Emma's bedroom.
My daughter was asleep in her crib.
My blood froze.
“No.”
James reached for his phone.
The signal was dead.
The speaker crackled again.
“Bring me the ring.”
Lauren began sobbing.
“I gave it to them.”
“What?”
“I thought they took it.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
James grabbed her shoulders.
“Where is the ring?”
“I don't know!”
I looked at the screen.
Emma moved in her sleep.
Someone was standing outside her bedroom door.
A shadow.
Tall.
Still.
Watching her.
James looked at me.
“We're leaving.”
“How?”
He pointed toward the emergency exit.
“Now.”
We ran.
But before we reached the stairs, my phone vibrated.
One message.
YOU HAVE ONE HOUR.
Then another.
THE RING ISN'T THE REAL SECRET.
And finally:
ASK LAUREN WHAT SHE DID THE NIGHT DANIEL DIED.
I stopped.
Lauren froze.
James turned toward her.
“What did you do?”
Lauren's face went white.
“I…”
She couldn't finish.
“What did you do?”
She began crying.
“I was there.”
“Where?”
“With Daniel.”
My heart stopped.
“When?”
“The night he died.”
I stared at her.
“You were there?”
She nodded.
“And you never told me.”
“I was afraid.”
“What happened?”
Lauren looked at me.
“I saw who killed him.”
Silence.
“Who?”
She opened her mouth.
But before she could answer, the entire building went dark.
A gunshot exploded somewhere below us.
James pushed us against the wall.
Then another shot.
Lauren screamed.
James whispered:
“Stay behind me.”
I held my breath.
And in the darkness, Lauren finally said the name.
The name she had been terrified to speak for thirty years.
“Your father.”
I stared at her.
My father had supposedly protected me.
My mother had supposedly protected me.
Daniel had supposedly been murdered by strangers.
But Lauren was telling me something else.
She was telling me that my father had been there.
And that she had seen him.
The woman I thought had betrayed my daughter was now holding the one truth that could destroy my entire family.
And James had never hated anyone the way he hated her.
Not until now.
Because if Lauren was telling the truth, she hadn't simply lied about Emma.
May you like
She had spent thirty years helping my father bury a murder.
And the person who had just fired those shots was coming for the last witness.
