Chapter 6: The Night Michael Forgot
When I walked through the front door, Michael was sitting at the kitchen table doing homework.
Normal.
Peaceful.
Like our world hadn’t been shattered.
He looked up.
“You talked to her.””
I stopped.
“How did you know?””
He shrugged.
“Your face.””
I sat across from him.
“Michael.””
He closed his notebook.
“What happened the night Mom died?””
His expression changed instantly.
Fear.
Not sadness.
Fear.
“Why?””
“Because I need to know.””
He looked away.
“Dad…”
“Please.””
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then he whispered:
“She told me not to tell you.””
My blood went cold.
“Who?””
“Sarah.””
I leaned forward.
“What did she tell you?””
Michael rubbed his hands together nervously.
“She said you couldn’t handle more bad news.””
“Michael.””
He looked at me.
“Mom called me before she went to the hospital.””
My heart stopped.
“She called you?””
He nodded.
“I was in my room.””
“What did she say?””
His eyes filled.
“She said she loved me.””
I swallowed.
“What else?””
“She said she needed to tell me something important.””
I waited.
“But Sarah came into my room.””
My chest tightened.
“She took the phone?””
Michael nodded.
“She said Mom needed rest.””
I stood up.
“She answered your mother’s phone?””
“I don’t know.””
“Michael.””
He looked down.
“I heard Sarah talking.””
“What did she say?””
“I don’t remember everything.””
“Try.””
He closed his eyes.
“She said, ‘You don’t need to worry about him. I’ll take care of everything.’”
The room became silent.
“Anything else?””
Michael shook his head.
“But after that, Mom never called again.””
I sat down slowly.
Because I remembered that night.
I remembered Sarah telling me Emily was asleep.
I remembered trusting her.
I remembered being grateful she was helping.
I remembered holding Emily’s hand the next morning.
And I remembered wondering why Emily looked like she wanted to tell me something.
A thought entered my mind.
A terrible thought.
“What happened to your mother’s phone?””
Michael looked confused.
“I don’t know.””
I grabbed my own phone.
I called an old number.
Emily’s sister, Rachel.
She answered after two rings.
“Marcus?””
“Rachel, I need to ask you something.””
Her voice changed.
“What happened?””
“Did Emily ever contact you before she died?””
A long silence.
“Yes.””
My heart dropped.
“When?””
“The night before.””
“What did she say?””
Rachel sounded hesitant.
“She said she was scared.””
I gripped the phone.
“Of what?””
“She wouldn’t say.””
“Why didn’t you tell me?””
“Because Sarah called me after Emily died.””
I closed my eyes.
“What did Sarah say?””
“She said Emily was confused from medication.””
My hands tightened.
“She said Emily imagined things.””
I felt sick.
Rachel continued.
“I believed her.””
Nobody spoke.
Then Rachel said:
“Marcus, there’s something else.””
“What?””
“Emily sent me an email after that phone call.””
“When?””
“Three days before she died.””
I looked at Michael.
“What did it say?””
“I never opened it.””
“Why?””
“Because it disappeared.””
My stomach turned.
“Disappeared?””
“Yes.””
I stood.
“Rachel, who had access to Emily’s accounts?””
She didn’t answer.
Then:
“Sarah.””
That night, I searched everything.
Old emails.
Old accounts.
Old backups.
And then I found it.
A hidden folder.
One email.
From Emily.
To me.
Never sent.
The subject line:
“If I Don’t Come Home.””
My hands shook as I opened it.
Marcus,
If you’re reading this, something happened.
I stopped.
I couldn’t breathe.
The next line destroyed me.
“I need you to know that Sarah is not who she says she is.””
I kept reading.
Emily wrote that she had discovered Sarah had been secretly contacting someone from her past.
Someone who knew about our family.
Someone who knew about Michael.
Then came the final paragraph.
“The hardest part is that I don’t know if Sarah wants to hurt me, or if she wants to become me.””
I stared at the screen.
Then another email appeared.
Sent years later.
From the same account.
The sender name:
Sarah.
May you like
The message contained only one sentence.
“I know you found the emails.””
