Chapter 6: The woman before Vanessa
Michael didn’t sleep.
By sunrise he was back at the mansion, standing in the wreckage of his office.
The safe had been cut open with professional precision. Desk drawers were untouched. Cash remained in the bottom drawer. His watches were still locked in the bedroom.
Only one thing had been taken.
The encrypted backup drives.
Detective Ortiz walked through the room slowly, studying the clean edges around the safe.
“This wasn’t a random burglary.”
Michael looked at the empty compartment.
“They knew exactly what they wanted.”
Ortiz nodded.
“No signs of forced entry.”
Michael turned sharply.
“What does that mean?”
“It means whoever entered either had a key…”
He paused.
“…or was invited in.”
Michael immediately thought of Vanessa.
“She was in court all afternoon.”
“That doesn’t eliminate her.”
Ortiz crouched near the safe.
“Who knew about the backups?”
“David.”
“The security technician.”
“And…”
Michael stopped.
“And Vanessa.”
Ortiz stood.
“We’ll pull security footage from the neighborhood.”
Michael gave a bitter laugh.
“She probably already thought of that.”
David arrived carrying a thin manila envelope.
“I found someone.”
Michael looked at him.
“Who?”
“Rebecca Holloway.”
Michael frowned.
“Holloway?”
David nodded.
“She’s Richard Holloway’s sister.”
Michael stared at him.
“That’s impossible.”
“It gets worse.”
David handed him a photograph.
A woman in her late thirties stood outside a bookstore in Vermont. She looked tired, guarded, and strangely familiar.
Michael studied her face.
“She looks like Vanessa.”
“She should.”
David spoke quietly.
“She’s Vanessa’s older sister.”
Michael looked up.
“She’s alive?”
“Yes.”
“Vanessa told me she died years ago.”
“She lied.”
An hour later, Michael was driving north through rain.
Rebecca had agreed to meet only after David assured her that children were involved.
“She refused to speak on the phone,” David said.
“She said Vanessa always listens.”
The bookstore sat on a quiet street surrounded by maple trees.
Rebecca was waiting in the back office.
She looked older than the photograph.
Not by age.
By exhaustion.
When Michael introduced himself, she stared at him for a long moment.
Then she asked one question.
“How old are your children?”
“Six and eight.”
She closed her eyes.
“I was afraid of that.”
Michael sat across from her.
“You know what she did?”
Rebecca looked at him with deep sadness.
“I know what she’s capable of.”
Silence filled the room.
Then Rebecca spoke.
“Our father believed children should be controlled.”
She looked toward the window.
“He locked us in the cellar.”
Michael felt his blood run cold.
“Vanessa was twelve.”
“I was fifteen.”
Rebecca’s voice remained calm.
“At first she was afraid.”
“Then something changed.”
“She began helping him.”
Michael stared at her.
“What do you mean?”
“She learned that if she obeyed him, she became the favorite.”
Rebecca folded her hands tightly.
“She started reporting everything I did.”
“She would smile while I was punished.”
Michael thought of Lily’s journals.
“She watches us.”
Rebecca continued.
“When our father died, I thought it was over.”
“It wasn’t.”
“She had already become him.”
Michael struggled to speak.
“She abused my children.”
Rebecca nodded.
“I know.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“She used to practice on dolls.”
Michael looked at her in disbelief.
“She would lock them in boxes for hours.”
“She called it teaching obedience.”
The room became very quiet.
Michael finally asked the question that had haunted him.
“What happened to her first husband?”
Rebecca’s expression changed.
Fear.
Real fear.
“His name was Daniel Mercer.”
“She married him when she was twenty-six.”
“What happened?”
Rebecca looked directly at him.
“He disappeared.”
Michael felt his pulse quicken.
“The police believed he abandoned the marriage.”
“Did he?”
Rebecca was silent for several seconds.
Then she whispered, “No.”
Michael leaned forward.
“What do you know?”
“Daniel called me three days before he vanished.”
“What did he say?”
“He said he found a room.”
Michael froze.
“A hidden room.”
Rebecca nodded slowly.
“He said there were children’s things inside.”
Michael felt the air leave his lungs.
“He was going to confront her.”
“What happened after that?”
“I never heard from him again.”
Michael looked at David.
David’s face had gone pale.
Rebecca stood and walked to a locked filing cabinet.
She removed a small box.
Inside were photographs.
Daniel.
Vanessa.
And another child.
A little girl Michael had never seen before.
“Who is that?”
Rebecca looked at the photo.
“Emily.”
“Daniel’s daughter from his first marriage.”
Michael frowned.
“What happened to her?”
Rebecca’s hands began shaking.
“She was six.”
Michael suddenly understood.
“No.”
Rebecca looked at him with tears in her eyes.
“She disappeared too.”
The room became completely silent.
Michael stared at the photograph.
Lily was six.
Emily had been six.
The same age.
The same fear.
Rebecca handed him another envelope.
“These are copies of Daniel’s letters.”
Michael opened the first page.
The handwriting was hurried.
Rebecca, I think she’s hurting Emily.
His hands trembled.
He read another line.
She says children need to be broken before they can be loved.
Michael couldn’t breathe.
Rebecca sat down again.
“I tried to tell the police.”
“They didn’t believe me.”
“She had Richard.”
Michael looked up.
“Richard Holloway.”
She nodded.
“He was already protecting her.”
“He made me sound unstable.”
“He destroyed my credibility.”
David spoke quietly.
“They’ve been doing this together for years.”
Rebecca looked at Michael.
“You need to understand something.”
“She doesn’t see children as people.”
“She sees them as possessions.”
Michael thought of Ethan stepping in front of Lily.
Lily apologizing for a drawing.
The basement.
The hidden room.
The journals.
Rebecca reached across the table.
“You have one advantage Daniel didn’t have.”
Michael looked at her.
“Your children are still alive.”
The words hit him like a physical blow.
His phone rang.
Detective Ortiz.
Michael answered immediately.
“What happened?”
Ortiz’s voice was urgent.
“We identified a fingerprint from your office.”
Michael waited.
“It belongs to Richard Holloway.”
Michael closed his eyes.
Ortiz continued.
“There’s something else.”
“What?”
“The fingerprint wasn’t recent.”
“It was left three months ago.”
Michael’s eyes opened.
“Three months?”
“Yes.”
A long silence.
“Mr. Carter…”
Ortiz spoke carefully.
“Richard Holloway was inside your house long before the custody battle began.”
Michael looked at Rebecca.
She already knew.
The war hadn’t started when he found the bruises.
May you like
It had started months earlier.
And he had been living with the enemy the entire time.
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