Chapter 6
I stopped sleeping properly.
Every car outside Patrice's house made me tense.
Every unfamiliar number on my phone made my stomach tighten.
And whenever Maya left my sight, I imagined the stranger's boots standing beside her bed.
I hated living that way.
But I hated the thought of losing my daughter even more.
One morning, Patrice found me sitting at the kitchen table before sunrise.
I was holding Marcus's photograph.
She poured coffee into two mugs.
Then sat beside me.
"Angie, you can't keep doing this."
I looked up.
"Doing what?"
"Trying to stay awake so nothing bad happens."
My eyes filled.
"I should've known Maya was in trouble."
Patrice took my hand.
"You know now."
"I missed everything."
"No."
I shook my head.
"She was terrified for weeks, Patrice."
My sister squeezed my fingers.
"Then help her feel safe now."
I looked toward the hallway.
Maya was sleeping in the guest bedroom.
For the first time in days, she hadn't woken screaming.
I took a long breath.
Patrice was right.
I couldn't change what I'd missed.
But I could change what happened next.
***
Detective Brooks arranged additional safety measures while the investigation continued.
Maya's school was informed about the threats.
Staff were instructed not to release her to anyone without my authorization.
I changed our phone numbers.
Patrice helped me contact a counselor who specialized in helping teenagers after frightening experiences.
At first, Maya resisted.
"I don't need therapy."
I sat beside her.
"Maybe not forever. But you deserve someone who can help you carry all this."
She stared at her hands.
"Do you think I'm crazy?"
My heart broke.
"No, sweetheart."
I pulled her close.
"I think you've been scared and lonely for too long."
She started crying.
Then she nodded.
"Okay."
***
Meanwhile, investigators continued searching for Natalie Walker.
After several days, they located her through an attorney.
She was alive.
And she had been hiding from people connected to Southeastern Fleet Services.
Brooks told me Natalie had agreed to speak with investigators.
I nearly dropped my phone.
"Does she know what happened to Marcus?"
"We're interviewing her."
I swallowed.
"Can I speak to her?"
"Not yet. We need to complete the initial interview."
I wanted to argue.
Instead, I thanked her.
Then I called Patrice.
"She's alive."
My sister gasped.
"Who?"
"Natalie Walker."
For the first time in weeks, hope felt stronger than fear.
***
Two days later, Brooks asked me to come to the station.
Patrice accompanied me.
When we entered the interview room, I saw a woman sitting beside an attorney.
She looked exhausted.
Dark circles surrounded her eyes.
Her hair was pulled into a tight bun.
But I recognized her immediately.
Natalie Walker.
The woman in the photograph with my husband.
She stood when she saw me.
"Angela?"
I nodded.
She began crying.
"I'm so sorry."
I stopped.
"For what?"
She looked toward Brooks.
Then back at me.
"Because Marcus died trying to help me."
My chest tightened.
I sat down slowly.
"Tell me what happened."
Natalie took a breath.
She explained that she'd worked as a mechanic on commercial vehicles inspected by Southeastern Fleet Services.
She discovered that certain repairs were being falsely recorded as completed.
Some vehicles had serious defects.
Including dangerous braking problems.
When she reported them, her supervisor told her to stay quiet.
Then she contacted Marcus.
"He believed me," she whispered.
I felt tears forming.
"That sounds like him."
Natalie nodded.
"He started checking the records."
She looked down.
"Then somebody found out."
I swallowed.
"Who?"
She hesitated.
"Curtis Bell was involved."
My fingers tightened.
Natalie explained that Curtis oversaw some of the disputed inspections.
She believed he had pressured employees to approve unsafe vehicles.
But she couldn't prove he had caused Marcus's crash.
Then she said something that changed everything.
"Marcus was supposed to meet me the night he died."
I leaned forward.
"Where?"
"At a truck stop outside the city."
"Did he arrive?"
She nodded.
"He did."
My heart hammered.
"What happened?"
Natalie's eyes filled.
"He gave me a folder. Told me to take it somewhere safe."
I stared at her.
"What was inside?"
"Copies of the inspection records. And photographs."
She paused.
"He said someone had been following him."
I felt sick.
"Did you see who?"
She nodded slowly.
"A dark SUV."
My throat tightened.
"What happened next?"
Natalie took a shaky breath.
"Marcus left first. I waited about ten minutes."
She covered her mouth.
"Then I drove toward the highway."
My entire body went still.
"I saw emergency lights."
Tears spilled down her cheeks.
"His truck had crashed."
I could barely breathe.
"Did you stop?"
"I tried."
She looked ashamed.
"But a man approached my car."
My heart jumped.
"Who?"
"I couldn't see his face clearly. He wore a cap and a dark jacket."
Her hands trembled.
"He told me to leave if I wanted to stay alive."
I covered my mouth.
Natalie began crying harder.
"I drove away. I was terrified."
I stared at her.
For three years, I had imagined Marcus dying alone.
And now I knew someone had been nearby.
Someone who might have helped.
But I also saw the fear on Natalie's face.
I couldn't hate her.
She had been threatened too.
I reached across the table.
She looked at my hand.
Then slowly took it.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
I nodded through tears.
"I know."
***
After the interview, Brooks told me investigators were reviewing new evidence from Natalie's statements.
They had also obtained traffic-camera footage from the highway.
The video quality was poor.
But it showed a dark SUV traveling behind Marcus's truck shortly before the crash.
I stared at Brooks.
"Was it Curtis?"
"We're working to identify the vehicle."
I nodded.
Then she added:
"There's something else."
My stomach tightened.
"The vehicle may have been connected to the company."
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
Everything led back to Southeastern Fleet Services.
But the next question frightened me.
If Curtis had been involved, why had it taken three years for anyone to investigate?
Then Brooks said:
"Angela, we're also looking at whether evidence from the original crash investigation was overlooked."
I stared at her.
"Overlooked?"
She nodded.
"Possibly. We're reviewing all available records."
I thought about the night two officers came to my door.
They told me Marcus had died in an accident.
They said the roads were wet.
They said no other vehicle was involved.
I had believed them.
Because I didn't know what else to do.
Now everything felt uncertain.
Then my phone vibrated.
A message from Maya.
Mom, someone left something for you at Aunt Patrice's house.
My heart jumped.
I called immediately.
She answered.
"Mom?"
"What happened?"
"A package came."
I gripped the phone.
"Don't touch it."
"I didn't."
I heard Patrice in the background.
She sounded frightened.
Then Maya whispered:
"Mom, it has Dad's name written on it."
May you like
I closed my eyes.
And knew the past had found us again.
