Chapter 5: The Woman Who Was Supposed To Be Dead
For three seconds, I didn't understand what Meliora had said.
Not because I couldn't hear her.
Because my mind refused to accept it.
The garage was silent except for the low hum of the laptop fan.
The camera sat on the workbench between us.
The recordings were still open.
My daughter's pain was still sitting there in digital files.
And now Meliora was telling me something that sounded impossible.
"The person who sent you those messages..."" she whispered.
Her face was pale.
"...is supposed to be dead.""
I stared at her.
"Who?""
She didn't answer immediately.
That scared me.
Because Meliora had spent the last hour defending herself, fighting back, refusing to admit anything.
But now?
Now she looked genuinely terrified.
"Who?"" I asked again.
Her lips parted.
"Elara.""
The name meant nothing.
I shook my head.
"Who is Elara?""
Meliora looked down.
"My sister.""
I felt the air leave my lungs.
"Your sister?""
She nodded slowly.
"You never told me you had a sister.""
"I don't.""
The answer was quiet.
Too quiet.
I frowned.
"What does that mean?""
Meliora looked toward the camera.
Then toward the hallway leading back into the house.
"It means Elara died twelve years ago.""
The garage suddenly felt colder.
I stared at her.
"You're telling me your dead sister has been sending me messages?""
"I know how it sounds.""
"It sounds impossible.""
"I know.""
"Then explain.""
Meliora sat down on the old wooden chair.
For the first time since I met her, she looked small.
Not innocent.
Not forgiven.
Just small.
"Elara and I were twins.""
I said nothing.
Because I could feel there was something underneath this.
Something much bigger than the haircut.
Much bigger than the room.
"She was always the better one," Meliora continued.
"Better?""
"Everyone loved her.""
Her voice became distant.
Like she was remembering something she hated remembering.
"She was kind. Patient. She remembered everyone's birthdays.
She volunteered. She was the person people called when they needed help.""
"And you?""
A bitter smile crossed her face.
"I was the difficult one.""
I didn't respond.
Because I was starting to see a pattern.
Not a pattern of events.
A pattern of how Meliora saw the world.
Someone was always taking something from her.
Someone was always chosen over her.
"Why did you never tell me about her?""
"Because there was nothing to tell.""
"Except she was your sister.""
"Was.""
The way she said it made me pause.
"What happened?""
Meliora looked at the floor.
"She died after an argument.""
My stomach tightened.
"With you?""
She nodded.
"She found out something.""
"What?""
She didn't answer.
"Meliora.""
Her eyes lifted.
And for the first time, I saw something I had never seen before.
Shame.
"She found out I was pregnant.""
I blinked.
"What?""
"Before we met.""
I stared at her.
"I don't understand.""
"I had a baby.""
The words hung there.
A baby.
My mind raced.
"Where is the child?""
Meliora looked away.
"That's why Elara hated me.""
"Hated you?""
"She said I wasn't ready. She said I didn't understand what it meant to be responsible for another person.""
My voice lowered.
"Was she right?""
Meliora's eyes filled.
"I don't know.""
The honesty surprised me.
"What happened to the baby?""
She didn't answer.
And that silence told me everything.
I took a step back.
"Meliora.""
"I lost custody.""
The words came out quickly.
Like she had been holding them inside for years.
"The baby was taken away.""
"Why?""
"Because I wasn't stable.""
I looked at her.
The garage seemed to spin slightly.
"And Elara?""
"She tried to help.""
"But you said she died.""
"She did.""
"Then how is she sending messages?""
Meliora looked at me.
"I don't know.""
A strange feeling moved through me.
Because for the first time tonight, Meliora wasn't the only mystery.
There was someone else.
Someone watching.
Someone who knew about the camera.
Someone who knew about Kerensa.
Someone who had been waiting for me to discover the truth.
My phone buzzed.
Both of us looked at it.
Another message.
Same unknown number.
I opened it.
*Unknown:* "Ask her what happened to the child.""
My eyes moved to Meliora.
She had seen it too.
Her face went white.
"She knows.""
"Who is she?""
Meliora didn't answer.
"Who is Elara?""
"I told you.""
"No.""
I stepped closer.
"You told me a story.""
Her eyes narrowed.
"You think I'm lying?""
"I think you've been hiding things for years.""
She looked away.
That was enough.
I turned back to the laptop.
"Show me everything.""
"What?""
"The recordings.""
Her face changed.
"No.""
I looked at her.
"Why?""
"Because you don't understand.""
"I understand enough.""
"No, you don't.""
She stood.
"Some things are worse than they look.""
I almost laughed.
"Worse?""
I pointed at the screen.
"My daughter is afraid to tell me when she's hurt.""
Her face fell.
I continued.
"You locked her drawings away.""
"I didn't lock her away.""
"You made her believe nobody would believe her.""
Silence.
Then she whispered:
"I was scared.""
The confession surprised me.
"Of what?""
She looked at me.
"Of becoming my mother.""
I stopped.
"What?""
"My mother was cruel.""
The anger disappeared from her voice.
Only exhaustion remained.
"She always compared us. She always told me Elara was better.""
I stared at her.
"So you became her?""
Her eyes filled.
"I don't know.""
That answer hurt more than an excuse.
Because maybe she truly didn't know.
Maybe she had spent so long repeating the same damage that she couldn't recognize it anymore.
But understanding someone didn't mean allowing them to hurt your child.
I closed the laptop.
"We're still leaving.""
She looked up.
"No.""
"Yes.""
"You don't know everything.""
"Then tell me.""
She hesitated.
"I can't.""
"Why?""
Her phone rang again.
The same number.
She stared at it.
Neither of us moved.
Finally, she answered.
"Hello?""
A few seconds passed.
Then her expression changed.
"What?""
She stood.
"No, that's impossible.""
I watched her.
"Who is it?""
She covered the phone.
"Don't.""
"Don't what?""
"Don't listen.""
The warning made me step closer.
I heard a faint voice through the speaker.
A woman's voice.
Calm.
Soft.
Almost familiar.
"Meliora.""
My wife's face lost all color.
The voice continued.
"You still haven't told him.""
Meliora whispered:
"Elara?""
The voice laughed softly.
Not like someone happy.
Like someone who had been waiting.
"I told you I would come back.""
The phone slipped from Meliora's hand.
I caught it before it hit the floor.
The voice was still there.
"Hello?""
I held the phone to my ear.
"Who are you?""
A pause.
Then:
"You don't know me.""
The voice was quiet.
"But your daughter does.""
My blood ran cold.
"What does that mean?""
Another pause.
Then the woman said:
"Ask Kerensa about the woman who visited her before you came home.""
I looked toward the house.
Toward my sleeping daughter's room.
"Who visited her?""
The voice answered.
And the name she said made my entire body freeze.
"Her real mother.""
The call ended.
I slowly lowered the phone.
Meliora was staring at me.
"She lied," she whispered.
"Who?""
Her eyes filled with fear.
"Elara.""
I waited.
"About being dead.""
A sound came from upstairs.
A small movement.
A floorboard creaking.
Kerensa.
I ran toward the stairs.
"Kerensa?""
No answer.
I reached her bedroom door.
It was open.
The bed was empty.
My heart stopped.
Then I saw her.
Standing by the window.
Holding something in her hand.
A photograph.
She turned when she heard me.
"Daddy.""
Her face was covered in tears.
"I wasn't supposed to tell you.""
I walked closer.
"What is it?""
She held out the picture.
My fingers shook as I took it.
It was a photo of a woman holding a baby.
A woman I had never seen before.
But I knew one thing immediately.
May you like
Because behind the photo, written in faded ink, were four words.
*"For my daughter, Kerensa.""*
