Chapter 3: Sarah Was Alive And She Knew Our Marriage Was A Trap
Chapter 3: Sarah Was Alive And She Knew Our Marriage Was A Trap
“Sarah never disappeared.”
Daniel’s words seemed to hang between us.
I couldn’t move.
I couldn’t even blink.
For eight years, I had believed Sarah was nothing more than a forgotten piece of my husband’s past.
Now Daniel was telling me she was alive.
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know.”
“You just said she’s alive.”
“I said she never disappeared.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
Daniel looked down at the photographs spread across the table.
“I haven’t seen her in eight years.”
“Then how do you know?”
“Because she contacted me.”
“When?”
“Three months ago.”
My stomach tightened.
“Three months ago?”
He nodded.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because the first message contained a photograph of you.”
I stared at him.
“What photograph?”
He turned the folder around.
The photograph showed me standing outside a grocery store.
I was wearing the same jacket I had worn the previous winter.
Behind me, across the street, someone was watching.
A woman.
Blonde hair.
Black sunglasses.
Sarah.
“When was this taken?”
“Three months ago.”
“I don’t remember seeing her.”
“She didn’t want you to.”
I looked at Daniel.
“Why was she watching me?”
“She said she was protecting you.”
“From what?”
“From me.”
I almost laughed.
“You?”
Daniel’s face remained serious.
“She believes I was involved in what happened to her.”
“What happened to her?”
He hesitated.
“Eight years ago, the night before our wedding, Sarah came to see me.”
“Why?”
“She told me someone was following her.”
“Who?”
“She didn’t know.”
“And you believed her?”
“At first, no.”
“What changed?”
“She showed me a video.”
Daniel opened his phone.
His fingers shook slightly as he searched for something.
Then he placed the phone on the table.
The video was only thirty seconds long.
It showed a parking garage.
Sarah was standing beside a black sedan.
Another man approached her.
I couldn’t see his face.
He handed her an envelope.
Then Sarah looked directly toward the camera.
The video ended.
I looked at Daniel.
“What am I supposed to see?”
“Look at the car.”
I replayed it.
The black sedan.
I knew that car.
It belonged to Daniel.
My husband saw the realization on my face.
“Yes.”
“But why was your car there?”
“Because Sarah borrowed it.”
“When?”
“The night she disappeared.”
I stared at him.
“You told me she was just someone from your past.”
“I lied.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t want you involved.”
“You married me anyway.”
“I thought it was over.”
“What was over?”
He didn’t answer.
Instead, he reached into the folder and pulled out another document.
It was an old police report.
Sarah’s name was on it.
But beneath her name was something else.
A second name.
Mine.
I felt my stomach drop.
“Why is my name on this?”
Daniel looked at me.
“Because Sarah reported that someone was using your identity.”
“What?”
“Someone had opened accounts in your name before we even met.”
I stared at the document.
“That makes no sense.”
“It does if someone planned our relationship.”
I looked up sharply.
“You think our marriage was arranged?”
“Not by our families.”
“Then by whom?”
Daniel pushed another photograph toward me.
It showed a man standing outside a restaurant.
I didn’t recognize him.
But Daniel did.
“Who is that?”
“My father’s old business partner.”
I frowned.
“I’ve never heard you talk about him.”
“Because he died six years ago.”
I looked at the photograph again.
“Then why does this matter?”
Daniel pointed at the date.
“Three months ago.”
My hands went cold.
“That photograph was taken three months ago?”
“Yes.”
“Then he’s alive.”
“Exactly.”
I leaned back.
Nothing made sense anymore.
Sarah was alive.
A dead man was apparently alive.
Someone had been using my identity.
And Daniel had known about all of it.
“Why did you let me sleep with another man?”
The question escaped before I could stop it.
Daniel looked at me.
“Because I needed evidence.”
“You said that already.”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“You still don’t understand.”
“Then explain it.”
“The man you slept with wasn’t random.”
I froze.
“What?”
“His name was Jason.”
“Yes.”
“He works for the man in that photograph.”
My heart stopped.
“You knew him?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Because I hired someone to follow him.”
I stared at my husband.
“You manipulated me.”
“I gave you a choice.”
“You knew exactly what would happen.”
“I hoped you wouldn’t do it.”
“But you were prepared for it.”
“Yes.”
“And the locks?”
“I changed them because once you slept with Jason, they knew you had taken the bait.”
“What bait?”
Daniel leaned closer.
“Your affair wasn’t the evidence I needed.”
“Then what was?”
He pulled out a small memory card.
“This.”
“What is it?”
“Jason’s phone.”
I stared at the tiny black card.
“He recorded everything.”
“Everything?”
“Our conversations.”
“My conversations?”
“Your meetings.”
My throat tightened.
“And last night?”
Daniel nodded.
“Especially last night.”
I felt sick.
“So someone was watching us.”
“Yes.”
“And you knew?”
“I suspected.”
“You let it happen.”
“I needed them to believe you were alone.”
“Why?”
Daniel looked toward the hotel window.
“Because they’re not trying to destroy our marriage.”
“Then what do they want?”
He finally looked at me.
“They want you.”
My heart stopped.
“Why me?”
“Because of what your father left you.”
I stared at him.
“My father?”
“He didn’t die from natural causes.”
I couldn’t breathe.
Daniel continued quietly.
“Before he died, he transferred something into your name.”
“What?”
“A trust.”
I shook my head.
“My father never mentioned a trust.”
“Because he couldn’t.”
“Why?”
“Because the people looking for it killed him.”
The room became silent.
I felt as if the floor had disappeared beneath me.
Then my phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
A photograph appeared.
It showed Sarah.
She was sitting in a small café.
Alive.
The message beneath the photograph contained only one sentence:
Your husband is telling you the truth, but he’s leaving out the most important part.
Another message followed.
Ask him what happened the night before your wedding.
I slowly raised my eyes toward Daniel.
“What happened the night before our wedding?”
His expression changed.
For the first time since we’d sat down, he looked genuinely afraid.
“I went to meet Sarah.”
“And?”
“She wasn’t alone.”
“Who was with her?”
Daniel stared at the photograph of Sarah.
Then he whispered:
“You.”
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“That isn’t possible.”
“I know.”
“But you said I didn’t know her.”
“You didn’t.”
“Then why was I there?”
Daniel reached for my hand.
His fingers were trembling.
“Because the woman standing beside Sarah that night wasn’t really you.”
I stared at him.
“What does that mean?”
He opened the final photograph in the folder.
It showed two women standing beside Sarah.
One was me.
The other looked exactly like me.
Same face.
Same hair.
Same eyes.
And written on the back were four words:
Only one survived that night.
