Seven Days Before My Wedding

Seven Days Before My Wedding - Chapter 9 — The Woman in Room 17

Chapter 9 — The Woman in Room 17

St. Helena Clinic stood at the edge of the city.

From the outside, it looked abandoned.

Broken windows.

Rusting gates.

Overgrown trees.

But Nathan noticed the cameras immediately.

"Someone maintains this place."

We stayed in the car.

My mother sat in the back.

She hadn't spoken since we left the house.

I turned toward her.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

She looked at me.

"I wanted to."

"Then why?"

"Because your grandmother made me promise."

"Promise what?"

"Never to tell you where she was unless you remembered."

"Remembered what?"

"Your first life."

I swallowed.

"And now?"

"Now you know."

Nathan looked at the building.

"Then we're going in."

The clinic had seventeen rooms.

My mother led us to the basement.

Room 17.

The door was locked.

She knocked three times.

Nothing.

She knocked again.

A voice came from inside.

"Who is it?"

My mother began crying.

"Mother."

Silence.

Then the door opened.

An old woman stood there.

Her hair was completely white.

Her face was thin.

But her eyes...

I knew those eyes.

I had seen them in childhood photographs.

"Grandma?"

She stared at me.

Then covered her mouth.

"Oh, Emma."

I stepped forward.

She pulled me into her arms.

For a moment, I was eight years old again.

Safe.

Home.

Then she whispered:

"I knew you would come back."

I pulled away.

"Back?"

She looked at me.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because you already came once."

My heart stopped.

"You knew."

She nodded.

"I knew."

"About my first life?"

"Yes."

"How?"

She touched my face.

"Because I was there when you died."

The room became silent.

Nathan stepped forward.

"You were there?"

She looked at him.

"I watched."

My stomach turned.

"Who killed me?"

She didn't answer.

"Grandma."

She closed her eyes.

"I can't say."

"Why?"

"Because he knows."

"Who?"

"The man behind everything."

My voice shook.

"Tell me his name."

She looked at me.

Then whispered:

"Your father."

I froze.

"My father?"

"No."

She shook her head.

"Not your biological father."

My heart stopped.

"What?"

She took my hand.

"Your father wasn't your biological father."

I couldn't breathe.

Nathan stared at her.

"What are you saying?"

My grandmother looked at me.

"Your real father is the reason all of this began."

I shook my head.

"No."

"Emma..."

"No."

I stepped backward.

"My father raised me."

"Yes."

"He loved me."

"Yes."

"Then why would you say he wasn't my father?"

"Because he wasn't."

My mind couldn't process it.

"Who was?"

She looked toward Nathan.

Then toward my mother.

Finally, she whispered:

"Richard Black."

Nathan went completely still.

My mother began crying.

I couldn't breathe.

Richard Black.

Nathan's father.

The man behind the conspiracy.

The man who had supposedly helped my mother.

My biological father.

It couldn't be true.

It had to be another lie.

But then my grandmother reached beneath her bed.

She pulled out an old photograph.

She handed it to me.

It showed my mother.

Young.

Pregnant.

Standing beside Richard.

On the back was a date.

Nine months before I was born.

And beneath it:

Our daughter.

I stared at the words.

The world tilted.

Nathan looked at the photograph.

His face became pale.

I looked at him.

"If this is true..."

He didn't answer.

"If Richard is my father..."

He finally spoke.

"Then we're related."

My heart broke.

Because somewhere in the middle of the nightmare...

I realized something worse.

Nathan and I had fallen in love with each other in a story where we might share the same blood.

I dropped the photograph.

And for the first time since returning to my past...

I wished I had never come back.