Chapter 2 - THE MEMORY BEHIND THE WALL
Mariana did not sleep that night.
She remained sitting on the edge of the bed until the numbers on the digital clock changed from 2:17 to 2:18, then 2:19, while the faint sounds of Lucas moving around the apartment drifted beneath the bedroom door.
Every few minutes, she heard the little girl laugh.
The sound should have comforted her.
Instead, it made her stomach twist.
Because that laugh sounded exactly like Chloe.
Mariana pressed both hands against her temples and closed her eyes.
She tried to remember the day Chloe supposedly recovered.
Nothing came.
She tried to remember taking Chloe to Flagstaff.
Nothing.
She tried to remember Lucas's sister receiving their daughter.
Nothing.
Instead, another memory surfaced.
A hospital corridor.
White walls.
A nurse crying.
Lucas standing beside a vending machine with his hands pressed against his face.
And someone saying, “I'm so sorry.”
Mariana opened her eyes.
“No,” she whispered.
She looked toward the locked bedroom door.
“I remember.”
She got out of bed and walked to the closet.
Her hands trembled as she opened it.
Chloe's clothes were still hanging there.
Lucas had claimed that the room had never been untouched for two years because Chloe was supposedly alive.
But then why had he left the clothes exactly where they were?
Why had the pink dress remained in the closet?
Why had the little girl been hiding behind them?
Mariana pulled the dress from the hanger.
The fabric felt familiar.
She brought it close to her face.
There was still a faint scent of the lavender detergent Chloe had loved.
A tiny white button was missing near the collar.
Mariana remembered sewing it back herself.
She remembered Chloe standing impatiently while she worked.
“Mommy, hurry.”
Mariana's throat tightened.
She sat on the floor.
Then she noticed something.
The inside seam of the dress was slightly thicker than it should have been.
She ran her fingers along it.
There was something sewn inside.
Mariana grabbed a pair of scissors from the desk and carefully opened the seam.
A small plastic key fell into her palm.
She stared at it.
It had a number printed on a metal tag.
Her heart began pounding.
She didn't know what it opened.
But she knew she had never seen it before.
Footsteps stopped outside the bedroom.
Mariana quickly closed her fist.
“Mariana?”
Lucas's voice.
She didn't answer.
“Are you awake?”
She remained silent.
The door handle moved.
It was locked.
“Mariana, open the door.”
She slipped the key into the pocket of her robe.
“I need to sleep.”
There was a long pause.
Then Lucas said quietly, “You shouldn't be searching through Chloe's things.”
Mariana froze.
“How did you know I was?”
Another pause.
“I heard you moving around.”
“You were downstairs.”
Silence.
Mariana stared at the door.
For the first time, she understood that Lucas was afraid.
Not confused.
Not worried.
Afraid.
And whatever frightened him had something to do with the past.
The next morning, Lucas left early.
He told Mariana he had an important construction meeting.
The little girl stayed behind.
Mariana waited until his truck disappeared from the parking lot.
Then she walked into the living room.
The child was sitting on the couch.
She was watching cartoons.
Mariana sat across from her.
The girl immediately lowered the volume.
“What is your name?”
The child looked confused.
“You know my name.”
Mariana swallowed.
“I want you to tell me.”
The girl hesitated.
“Chloe.”
Mariana felt tears burn her eyes.
“Your full name?”
“Chloe Marie Carter.”
Mariana stopped breathing.
That was Chloe's name.
Exactly.
Not Chloe Davis.
Not Chloe Palmer.
Chloe Marie Carter.
Carter was Mariana's maiden name.
Lucas had never used it.
No one had.
Except their daughter.
Mariana leaned forward.
“Who told you that?”
The girl looked down.
“Daddy.”
“When?”
She didn't answer.
Mariana lowered her voice.
“Chloe, did Daddy tell you not to talk to me?”
The girl nodded.
“What did he say?”
“He said you were sick.”
Mariana felt something inside her break.
“Do you believe him?”
The girl looked at her for several seconds.
Then she whispered, “No.”
Mariana's breath caught.
“Why?”
“Because sick mommies don't remember secret things.”
“What secret things?”
The girl climbed off the couch.
She walked toward the kitchen.
Mariana followed.
The child stopped beside an old wooden cabinet.
She pointed toward the bottom drawer.
“Mommy used to hide my birthday cards there.”
Mariana opened it.
Inside were several cards.
Old ones.
Cards she remembered making.
But beneath them was a small envelope.
Her handwriting was on the front.
FOR CHLOE.
Mariana's hands shook as she opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
It showed Chloe standing in front of the hospital.
She was smiling.
On the back, Mariana had written:
“October 17. She beat it.”
Mariana stared at the words.
Her knees weakened.
October 17.
She remembered October 17.
But not as a celebration.
As the day Chloe died.
The girl looked at her.
“Mommy?”
Mariana whispered, “Who are you?”
The child frowned.
“I told you.”
“No.”
Mariana held up the photograph.
“You're Chloe.”
The girl nodded.
“But why does Daddy say I imagined your death?”
The child's eyes filled with tears.
“Because Daddy said you would leave if you remembered.”
Mariana stopped breathing.
“Leave where?”
The child looked toward the hallway.
“Where Aunt Claire lives.”
Claire.
Lucas's sister.
The woman he claimed had taken Chloe to Flagstaff.
Mariana suddenly understood why she had never been able to remember visiting Flagstaff.
She had never been there.
She stood.
“We're going somewhere.”
The little girl looked frightened.
“Where?”
“To find out the truth.”
Mariana grabbed her purse.
Before they reached the door, however, someone knocked.
Three slow knocks.
Mariana froze.
The child grabbed her hand.
Another knock.
Then a man's voice came through the door.
“Mrs. Carter?”
Mariana didn't answer.
“I'm here about your husband.”
Her heart began racing.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Daniel Brooks. I'm a private investigator.”
Mariana looked at Chloe.
The little girl was trembling.
Daniel continued through the door.
“I think you need to know what happened two years ago.”
Mariana slowly opened the door.
The man standing outside was in his late fifties.
Gray hair.
Dark coat.
Serious expression.
He looked past Mariana.
His eyes landed on Chloe.
His face changed.
“Oh my God.”
He stepped backward.
“You found her.”
Mariana's blood went cold.
“You knew?”
May you like
Daniel looked directly at her.
“I've been looking for that child for almost two years.”
