“Oh my God.”
Noah turned to me.
“Mom… why is she looking at me like that?”
I couldn’t answer.
Not yet.
My father finally forced out words.
“We need to leave. Now. All of us.”
I laughed, sharp and empty.
“You don’t get to walk into my house after fifteen years and start giving orders.”
“Elena, listen to me,” he said. “Daniel knows where she is. If Rachel’s alive, then he knows. He’ll come here.”
The name shattered the room.
Detective Daniel Harper.
My parents had told everyone he was the man I had run away with.
The cop who had “ruined” me.
The man they claimed vanished before anyone could question him.
Their version of events painted me as the reckless daughter and him as the convenient villain, but even that lie concealed something far worse.
Rachel stepped closer, her voice thin and shaking.
“You told them I was dead.”
My mother broke down in tears.
“No,” I said quietly. “They told me you were dead.”
Rachel looked at me as if I had struck her.
“What?”
My father dragged both hands over his face.
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