Chapter 8 - THE OTHER WOMAN
The other woman was named Emily.
She had been married to Daniel before me.
I learned that from the detective.
She had disappeared three years earlier.
Not literally.
She had moved across the country.
But before leaving, she had filed a domestic violence report.
Then she withdrew it.
Then she vanished.
Her case had been closed.
Until now.
The detectives found her name in Daniel's files.
They also found photographs.
Messages.
Medical records.
And the same pattern.
He had accused Emily of instability.
He had convinced people she was dangerous.
He had documented her breakdowns.
He had isolated her.
And then he had tried to obtain custody of their son.
But Emily had escaped.
The detective handed me a photograph.
It showed Daniel standing beside a little boy.
I stared at it.
"He has another child."
"Yes."
"Where is he?"
"With Emily."
My stomach tightened.
"Is he safe?"
"Yes."
Then the detective showed me another document.
A restraining order.
Daniel had violated it.
Multiple times.
Mara whispered:
"He did this before."
I looked at her.
"What?"
"He learned how to make women look unstable."
That sentence stayed with me.
Daniel wasn't improvising.
He had a system.
He had done it before.
Maybe many times.
Then the detective told us Emily had agreed to testify.
She arrived the next morning.
She looked at me for several seconds.
Then she said:
"I'm sorry."
I shook my head.
"For what?"
"For knowing exactly what you're going through."
She sat beside me.
"Did he ever make you question yourself?"
I nodded.
"Every day."
She smiled sadly.
"He made me think I was crazy."
I asked:
"How did you get away?"
She looked at my daughter.
"Because my son recorded him."
My heart stopped.
"What?"
"Children notice things adults don't."
She explained that her son had hidden a small recorder in his backpack.
He had captured Daniel threatening Emily.
That recording had eventually helped her escape.
Then Emily handed me a flash drive.
"I kept a copy."
I stared at it.
"Why give it to me?"
"Because he never stopped."
My skin prickled.
"What do you mean?"
Emily looked toward the window.
"He contacted me two weeks ago."
"Why?"
"To warn me."
"About what?"
She looked directly at me.
"He said if you found out about me, you'd realize what he was capable of."
I couldn't speak.
Emily leaned closer.
"Then he said something strange."
"What?"
"He said you weren't the first."
I felt sick.
"How many?"
Emily shook her head.
"I don't know."
The detective entered.
"We found something else."
He placed a box on the table.
Inside were folders.
Each had a woman's name.
There were seven.
Seven women.
Seven stories.
Seven versions of the same lie.
I stared at the folders.
Then I noticed one final folder.
It didn't have a woman's name.
It had a date.
The date my daughter was born.
Inside was a single photograph.
A newborn baby.
Not my daughter.
Another baby.
I looked at the detective.
"Who is this?"
He didn't answer.
Emily did.
"I don't know."
Then she picked up the photograph.
Her hands started shaking.
"I've seen this baby before."
"Where?"
She turned the photograph over.
There was a handwritten note.
Replacement arranged.
I stared at the words.
"What does that mean?"
The detective's expression hardened.
"We don't know yet."
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
Listened.
His face changed.
He looked at me.
"We just found another woman."
"Where?"
"In Daniel's office."
"Alive?"
The detective paused.
"Yes."
May you like
"But she says she was held there against her will."
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