Chapter 3 - The Secret Margaret Took to Her Grave
Daniel didn't answer immediately.
That frightened me more than anything.
I looked down at Margaret's letter again.
Ask Daniel what happened to the baby.
The words blurred.
"Daniel."
He swallowed.
"There's something I need to explain."
"Then explain it."
He glanced toward his car.
"Can we please sit somewhere warm?"
"No."
He looked at my face and nodded.
"All right."
He took a breath.
"Do you remember losing a pregnancy in 2020?"
I felt my chest tighten.
Of course I remembered.
I had been married for almost two years.
Michael and I had spent months trying to have a baby.
When the test finally showed positive, I cried so hard that Michael thought something was wrong.
I was six weeks pregnant.
I bought tiny socks.
I started looking at nursery furniture.
And then, one morning, I began bleeding.
At the hospital, a doctor told me I had miscarried.
I spent weeks blaming myself.
Michael told me not to dwell on it.
Olivia said everything happened for a reason.
I never forgave myself for how quickly they expected me to move on.
"What does that have to do with Margaret?" I asked.
Daniel's jaw tightened.
"My mother believed Michael lied about the medical appointment."
I stared at him.
"What medical appointment?"
"The one you went to two days before the bleeding started."
I remembered.
Michael had insisted on driving me to a private clinic for additional testing.
He said a specialist had recommended it.
But I had been exhausted and frightened.
I remembered sitting in a waiting room.
A nurse taking blood.
Michael speaking privately with someone behind a door.
Then going home.
"Daniel, what are you suggesting?"
"I'm not sure yet."
Anger rose inside me.
"Then why show me this?"
"Because my mother had evidence she wanted investigated."
I looked at him.
"Evidence of what?"
"Possibly an altered medical record. Possibly Michael influencing what you were told afterward."
I stepped back.
The world seemed suddenly too loud.
Cars passing.
Wind moving through trees.
A gate clanging behind us.
I had spent years accepting that miscarriage as a terrible accident.
Now even that memory had been touched by suspicion.
"Do you know whether I was actually pregnant?"
"Yes," Daniel said gently. "That part was real."
"Then what happened?"
"I don't know."
I stared at him.
He continued.
"Mother wrote several notes before she died. She was confused near the end, but she kept returning to your pregnancy."
I pressed the letter against my chest.
"Why didn't she tell me?"
"She never found the courage."
A bitter laugh escaped me.
"None of you did."
Daniel accepted that without arguing.
"You're right."
I looked at the prison gates.
For one terrible second, I almost wanted to go back inside.
The rules there were cruel but simple.
Outside, every familiar memory seemed to contain another lie.
Daniel waited.
Finally, I asked, "Where were you planning to take me?"
"My house. There's a guest room. You can leave whenever you want."
I shook my head.
"I won't live under another Mercer's roof."
"I understand."
He reached into his pocket and produced a folded paper.
"I also booked a room at a small hotel. It's paid for in your name. No one knows where it is."
I looked at him suspiciously.
"Why would you do that?"
"Because I didn't know whether you would trust me."
I didn't.
But I had twenty-eight dollars in my prison release account and nowhere to sleep.
I accepted the hotel address.
Daniel carried my box only after I allowed him.
During the drive, neither of us spoke much.
Boston looked familiar and alien at once.
New buildings stood where I remembered empty lots.
Restaurants had closed.
Street signs had changed.
Life had continued without asking my permission.
At the hotel, Daniel handed me a phone.
It was new.
Still sealed.
"I thought you might need one."
"I can't accept all this."
"You don't owe me anything."
I stared at him.
He placed the box on a chair.
"There's someone else I want you to meet."
"Who?"
"An attorney named Sarah Whitcomb."
I stiffened.
"I've had enough lawyers."
"She handles post-conviction cases. She believes there may be grounds to challenge the verdict."
"Does she know about the recording?"
"Yes."
"Has she watched it?"
"Yes."
I looked at him.
"Why isn't she here?"
"Because I promised I wouldn't bring anyone without asking you first."
That surprised me.
For so long, people had made decisions about my life without permission.
Daniel had given me a choice.
"Tomorrow," I said.
He nodded.
Before leaving, he placed the sunflowers in a glass vase near the window.
I watched him adjust the stems.
"Daniel?"
He turned.
"Did you ever believe I meant to kill Michael?"
His expression changed.
"No."
"Why?"
He took a moment.
"Because I knew you before you married him."
Then he left.
I sat on the edge of the bed for almost an hour.
The room was silent.
No guards.
No count.
No locked doors.
I should have felt free.
Instead, I felt terrified.
I opened the cardboard box.
At the bottom lay a photograph of my old office.
My employees stood around a cake celebrating our tenth anniversary.
There were fourteen of us.
I wondered where they were now.
Had they believed the stories about me?
Had they lost their jobs?
Had Michael hurt them too?
Then my new phone rang.
Unknown number.
I stared at the screen.
It rang again.
Against my better judgment, I answered.
"Hello?"
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then a familiar voice filled my ear.
"Welcome home, Evelyn."
My stomach dropped.
Michael.
I couldn't breathe.
"How did you get this number?"
He laughed softly.
"You always were predictable."
I gripped the phone.
"What do you want?"
"To make sure you understand something."
His voice grew colder.
"Whatever Daniel told you, stay away from it."
I stood up.
"Or what?"
There was a pause.
Then Michael said something I would never forget.
"You already lost three years because you couldn't control yourself."
He lowered his voice.
"Don't make me take the rest."
The line went dead.
I stared at the screen.
Then I called Daniel.
He answered immediately.
"Everything okay?"
"Michael called me."
Silence.
"What did he say?"
I repeated every word.
Daniel's breathing changed.
"Lock your hotel door, Evelyn."
I looked toward it.
"Why?"
"Because I never gave Michael your new number."
A chill spread across my skin.
May you like
Daniel continued.
"And only three people knew which hotel I booked."
