Chapter 11: The Door That Was Never Locked
I don’t remember screaming.
I don’t remember dropping the phone.
I only remember one thing.
The photograph.
Zola asleep in her room.
Her pink blanket pulled up to her chin.
Taken from inside our house.
Someone had been there.
Someone had watched my daughter sleep.
Marcus moved before anyone else.
He ran upstairs.
I followed.
“Marcus!””
But he was already opening doors.
Checking closets.
Looking behind curtains.
Every second felt endless.
“Zola!””
She woke up confused.
“Mommy?””
I grabbed her so tightly she complained.
“Too tight.””
I loosened my arms immediately.
“I’m sorry.””
She looked at my face.
“You’re doing the scared face again.””
I kissed her forehead.
“I’m okay.””
I wasn’t.
Not even close.
Marcus came back downstairs.
“No one’s here.””
Rachel was standing near the kitchen, crying silently.
I looked at her.
“Who sent that?””
She didn’t answer.
“Rachel.””
She wiped her face.
“Your cousin.””
I froze.
“My cousin?””
“James.””
The name meant nothing.
Until it did.
James Carter.
Richard’s nephew.
Daniel’s cousin.
The quiet man who attended holidays.
The man who always stayed in the background.
“He’s involved?””
Rachel nodded.
“He worked with Richard.””
Marcus frowned.
“Why would Daniel suspect him?””
Rachel looked at the recorder.
“Because James was the one who knew about the files.””
My phone buzzed.
A message.
Unknown number.
*You finally found the missing piece.*
Another message appeared.
*Ask Rachel what happened the night your mother died.*
I looked at Rachel.
Her face changed.
“You know.””
She closed her eyes.
“I knew this day would come.””
“Tell me.””
“Emily…”
“No.””
I stepped closer.
“You don’t get to protect me anymore.””
Rachel looked broken.
Then she sat down.
“Your mother wasn’t killed immediately.””
I stopped.
“What?””
“She survived the crash.””
The room disappeared.
“What are you saying?””
Rachel’s voice trembled.
“She was alive when they took her to the hospital.””
My knees weakened.
“Then why…”
“Because someone made sure she never left.””
I covered my mouth.
“No.””
Rachel cried.
“I’m sorry.””
“Who?””
She didn’t answer.
She didn’t need to.
My mind already knew.
“Richard.””
Rachel shook her head.
“No.””
I looked at her.
“Then who?””
She whispered:
“The person who had access to her medical records.””
Silence.
Marcus’s face changed.
“Someone in the hospital.””
Rachel nodded.
“Someone who knew your mother was about to reveal everything.””
I stared at her.
“Who?””
Rachel looked at me.
“Your mother’s doctor.””
I felt dizzy.
“My mother’s doctor?””
Rachel nodded.
“Dr. Samuel Hayes.””
The name hit me.
Because I knew it.
Everyone in my family knew it.
He was my childhood doctor.
The man who signed my mother’s death certificate.
The man who attended Daniel’s funeral.
The man who hugged me and said:
“Your mother would be proud of you.””
I backed away.
“No.””
Marcus looked at me.
“You know him?””
I nodded slowly.
“He treated me after my mother died.””
My phone buzzed again.
This time, there was a photo.
A recent photo.
Dr. Hayes standing outside my house.
Holding something.
I zoomed in.
My blood ran cold.
It was the recorder.
The one Daniel made.
The one Rachel had just brought.
I looked at Rachel.
“He was here.””
Rachel whispered:
“Then he knows.””
“Knows what?””
She stared at me.
“That Daniel left something else.””
I turned toward the table.
The envelope.
The recordings.
The key.
“What else?””
Rachel’s voice dropped.
“The thing Daniel hid from everyone.””
Marcus looked confused.
“What thing?””
Rachel answered:
“The proof that Richard Carter didn’t order the accident.””
I froze.
“Then who did?””
Rachel looked at the front door.
Because someone knocked.
Three slow knocks.
Nobody moved.
Then a voice came through.
A voice I recognized.
“Emily.””
May you like
Dr. Hayes.
“Open the door.””
