Chapter 3
The Accounts My Wife Tried to Protect
I ended the call and stared at Claire.
She sat motionless.
Her hands were clasped together.
Tears rolled down her cheeks.
For months, I'd believed she was helping me survive.
She cooked dinner.
Drove Lily to school.
Reminded Maya about appointments.
And gradually became the person I leaned on whenever the grief felt unbearable.
Now I wondered whether she'd been watching us for a very different reason.
"Claire."
She looked up.
"Tell me about the company accounts."
Her face tightened.
"What accounts?"
I swallowed my anger.
"Elena's old responsibilities."
Before the accident, Elena managed the financial side of our construction company.
She was careful.
Brilliant.
The kind of woman who noticed a missing twenty-dollar receipt in a pile of invoices.
After she disappeared, Claire offered to help.
She claimed she had accounting experience.
I was drowning in grief and responsibilities.
So I gave her access to several business records.
I thought she was saving me.
Now I wasn't sure.
"Marcus," she whispered, "I only helped because you needed me."
I looked at her.
"Then you won't mind showing me what you've been doing."
She stood.
"I need to go home."
I moved away from the doorway.
"You're free to leave."
Her expression shifted.
"But before you do, understand something."
She stared.
"I'm not giving you access to anything else."
Her lips parted.
"And I'm contacting the bank and our attorney."
She swallowed.
"You're overreacting."
I shook my head.
"My missing wife is on a video with my brother."
My voice broke.
"There's no way to overreact to that."
Claire grabbed her purse.
Then she looked toward Maya.
"Sweetheart, you know I love you."
Maya's expression hardened.
"Don't."
Claire froze.
My daughter stood.
"You kept telling me to accept that Mom was gone."
Claire began crying.
"I was trying to help."
Maya shook her head.
"You told me to stop looking at her pictures."
I felt sick.
I'd forgotten that.
Three months earlier, Maya had accused Claire of throwing away one of Elena's photo albums.
Claire claimed she'd moved it into storage.
I hadn't questioned her.
Now I looked at my daughter.
"I'm sorry."
Maya's eyes filled.
She looked away.
Claire moved toward the door.
Before leaving, she whispered, "Some things are better left alone."
I stared at her.
"Not my family."
She disappeared into the hallway.
A moment later, the front door closed.
Lily began crying.
Maya wrapped her arms around her.
I looked at both my daughters.
Then I made a decision.
"We're going to find your mother."
Maya looked up.
"Tonight?"
I hesitated.
The video showed South Carolina.
Several hours from Atlanta.
Part of me wanted to grab my keys and drive immediately.
But I had two frightened children.
And a possible criminal investigation.
I couldn't risk making things worse.
"First, we're going to get answers."
Maya nodded.
I called my mother-in-law, Evelyn Carter.
She lived forty minutes away.
Elena was her only daughter.
After the accident, Evelyn had nearly stopped eating.
She visited the marina every month.
Sometimes she stood beside the water for hours.
I had begged her to accept what the investigators told us.
Now I wondered whether she'd been right to refuse.
She answered immediately.
"Marcus?"
Her voice sounded tired.
"Is everything okay?"
I swallowed.
"Mom, I need you to come over."
She hesitated.
"What's happened?"
I looked toward Maya.
Then said the words I'd never imagined speaking.
"We may have found Elena."
The silence was so long that I thought the call had disconnected.
Then Evelyn whispered, "Don't play with me, son."
My eyes filled.
"I'm not."
She began crying.
"I'll be there."
An hour later, she walked through our front door.
I showed her the video.
She stared.
Then reached toward the screen.
"Oh, my baby."
Her knees weakened.
I caught her.
She began sobbing.
"That's Elena."
I nodded.
She touched the pendant in the video.
"I gave her the tiny blue stone."
I froze.
"What?"
Evelyn looked at me.
"Elena told me about the necklace you designed."
She smiled through tears.
"She wanted something from me added to it."
My heart tightened.
The stone.
That tiny blue detail.
Now I knew for certain.
It was Elena.
Evelyn looked up.
"Where is she?"
"Ocean Crest Resort."
She grabbed my arm.
"Then we're going."
I shook my head gently.
"Detective Grant is checking the location."
Evelyn stared.
"Marcus."
"I know."
My voice broke.
"I want to find her too."
She nodded slowly.
Then I asked something I'd been afraid to say.
"Did Elena ever mention problems with Daniel?"
Evelyn's expression changed.
I noticed immediately.
"What?"
She looked down.
"Your brother borrowed money from her."
My stomach tightened.
"When?"
"About six weeks before she disappeared."
I stared.
"How much?"
Evelyn hesitated.
"Forty thousand dollars."
My heart stopped.
Forty thousand?
Elena had never told me.
Evelyn continued.
"She said Daniel promised to repay it."
I felt sick.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"She asked me not to."
I sat down.
"Did she say why?"
Evelyn nodded.
"She believed Daniel was in trouble."
I looked toward the ceiling.
Then remembered something.
The week before the accident, Elena had been unusually quiet.
She'd spent hours reviewing company records.
One night, I'd found her crying in our home office.
When I asked what was wrong, she'd smiled and said she was tired.
I'd believed her.
I felt guilt rising.
"She was trying to protect us."
Evelyn squeezed my shoulder.
"That's who she was."
My phone rang.
Detective Grant.
I answered.
Her voice was urgent.
"Marcus, we've confirmed the video location."
My heart pounded.
"And?"
"The woman matching Elena's description left the resort this afternoon."
I froze.
"Where did she go?"
"We're checking."
Then Grant continued.
"But we found something important."
I swallowed.
"What?"
"She wasn't registered under Elena Williams."
My stomach tightened.
"Then what name?"
Grant paused.
"Anna Brooks."
I stared.
Anna Brooks.
A name I'd never heard before.
Then Evelyn suddenly grabbed my arm.
Her face had gone pale.
"Marcus."
I looked at her.
"What?"
She whispered, "That's the name Elena used before she married you."
I stopped breathing.
Because my wife hadn't simply survived.
May you like
She was living under an identity from her past.
And somehow, my mother-in-law knew more about that name than she'd ever told me.
