Seven Days Before My Wedding

Seven Days Before My Wedding - Chapter 6 — The Woman Who Should Be Dead

Chapter 6 — The Woman Who Should Be Dead

I didn't sleep.

Not even for a minute.

How could I?

My mother was alive.

Somewhere.

For three years, I had mourned a woman who might have been breathing, walking, speaking, and living under a different name while I cried over an empty grave.

The thought was almost impossible to comprehend.

I sat on the edge of my bed with Nathan's last words repeating inside my head.

She's alive.

Then another question followed.

Why didn't she come back?

And another.

Why did everyone let me believe she was dead?

My hands were shaking.

I looked at my phone.

5:12 a.m.

I had called Nathan twice.

He hadn't answered.

I knew he wasn't avoiding me.

He was thinking.

And that frightened me.

Nathan always answered my calls.

Unless answering would put me in danger.

I stood and walked toward the mirror.

My reflection looked exhausted.

Dark circles beneath my eyes.

Pale skin.

Messy hair.

I barely recognized myself.

But then I remembered something.

In my previous life, my mother had been dead.

I had attended her funeral.

I had cried beside her grave.

I had watched the coffin disappear beneath the earth.

Except...

I had never seen her body.

The funeral had been closed-casket.

At the time, I had thought nothing of it.

I had been devastated.

Adrian had handled everything.

He had told me the police had recommended a closed funeral because of the condition of the body.

I believed him.

Why wouldn't I?

He had been my fiancé.

The man who claimed to love me.

The man who held me while I cried.

The man who whispered:

"I'm here for you."

I closed my eyes.

Now every memory felt like a lie.

I grabbed my coat.

I needed Nathan.

I arrived at the address he had sent me twenty minutes later.

It was an old apartment building in the eastern part of the city.

Nothing about it looked special.

Gray walls.

A broken sign.

A narrow entrance.

I looked at the message again.

Apartment 4B. Come alone.

I walked inside.

The elevator was broken.

I climbed four flights of stairs.

When I reached the fourth floor, I stopped.

The hallway was empty.

I knocked.

Once.

Twice.

The door opened.

Nathan stood there.

He looked exhausted.

"You came alone?"

"Yes."

"Good."

I entered.

He locked the door behind me.

Then he checked the hallway through the peephole.

I turned toward him.

"Where is my mother?"

He didn't answer.

"Nathan."

"I told you she's alive."

"Where?"

"Safe."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only answer I can give you right now."

I stepped closer.

"You knew."

"Yes."

"For how long?"

He looked away.

"Three years."

My heart broke all over again.

"Three years."

"Yes."

"You knew my mother was alive for three years."

"I did."

"And you never told me."

"I couldn't."

"You couldn't?"

He looked at me.

"You were being watched."

"By Adrian?"

"By people more dangerous than Adrian."

My blood ran cold.

"Who?"

"I don't know."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"I expect you to understand that I was trying to keep you alive."

I stared at him.

"Then why did you let me marry Adrian?"

His expression tightened.

"I tried to stop you."

"You didn't try hard enough."

He looked down.

"You're right."

That answer hurt more than an excuse would have.

I stepped closer.

"What happened to my mother?"

Nathan was silent for several seconds.

Then he said:

"The crash wasn't what you think."

"I know."

"No."

He shook his head.

"You don't."

He walked toward a table.

A folder was sitting there.

He opened it.

Inside were photographs.

I didn't want to look.

But I did.

The first showed the wreckage.

My parents' car.

Completely destroyed.

The second showed the road.

The third showed another vehicle.

A black sedan.

The same one Nathan had mentioned before.

I stared.

"That's the car."

"Yes."

"The one that followed them."

"Yes."

"Who was driving?"

"We never found out."

"We?"

Nathan looked at me.

"My father."

My stomach tightened.

"Richard?"

"Yes."

"Why would he investigate?"

"Because he knew what was inside the car."

I frowned.

"What?"

Nathan pulled out another photograph.

A close-up of the rear passenger door.

There was a small amount of blood on the handle.

"Your mother wasn't in the front."

I stared.

"What?"

"She was sitting in the back."

I shook my head.

"No."

"Look."

He handed me another photograph.

The seatbelt.

Broken.

The rear window.

Shattered.

A blood trail.

I swallowed.

"She escaped."

"Yes."

"After the crash?"

"Before it."

I looked at him.

"What does that mean?"

"Your mother realized the car was being followed."

He paused.

"She jumped out."

My heart stopped.

"While the car was moving?"

"Yes."

"Then what happened?"

"The car crashed."

"And my father?"

Nathan's expression changed.

"He didn't survive."

I closed my eyes.

"And my mother?"

"She survived."

"Where did she go?"

Nathan didn't answer.

"Nathan."

He walked to the window.

"Someone found her."

"Who?"

"My father."

My blood ran cold.

"Richard found my mother."

"Yes."

"And he helped her?"

Nathan nodded.

"Why?"

"Because he realized someone was trying to kill her."

"Then why didn't he tell me?"

"Because he was afraid."

"Of whom?"

"Your mother's attacker."

I stared at him.

"Who was it?"

Nathan looked at me.

"We don't know."

"But you said she was safe."

"She was."

"Where?"

He hesitated.

Then said:

"She disappeared."

My heart dropped.

"What?"

"After my father found her, she disappeared."

"Where?"

"We don't know."

"How can you say she's alive?"

Nathan placed another photograph on the table.

It showed a woman walking through an airport.

The photograph was blurry.

The woman wore sunglasses and a dark scarf.

But I recognized her.

Even after three years.

Even from a distance.

My mother's posture.

The way she held her handbag.

The slight tilt of her head.

I knew her.

My hands trembled.

"That's her."

Nathan nodded.

"The photograph was taken eight months ago."

Eight months.

She had been alive eight months ago.

Maybe she was alive now.

"Where was this?"

"Geneva."

"Switzerland?"

"Yes."

"Then why isn't she there now?"

"Because she left."

"When?"

"Two months ago."

"Where?"

"We don't know."

I stared at the photograph.

My mother had been alive.

Living somewhere.

Running from someone.

And I had known nothing.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because the person hunting her was also looking for you."

"Who?"

"We think it's the same person behind the financial network."

I looked at him.

"The person who killed my parents."

"Possibly."

"And the person who wants the blue ledger."

"Yes."

I took a breath.

"What does my mother know?"

"Everything."

The word hit me like a blow.

"Everything?"

"She knew about the money."

"She knew about Richard?"

"Yes."

"She knew about Adrian?"

"Not at first."

"What changed?"

"She discovered something."

"What?"

Nathan looked at me.

"Adrian wasn't working alone."

I felt a chill.

"Elena."

He nodded.

"Yes."

I closed my eyes.

I had known.

Somewhere deep inside, I had known.

But hearing it from Nathan made it real.

"How long?"

"They've been connected for years."

"Before my wedding?"

"Long before."

"Then my sister..."

"Was part of the plan."

I couldn't breathe.

"Was she involved in my parents' deaths?"

"We don't know."

"But you suspect her."

"I suspect everyone."

I stared at the photograph.

"Except me?"

Nathan looked at me.

"What?"

"You suspect everyone except me."

His expression softened.

"I've never suspected you."

I looked away.

"Even when I pushed you away?"

"Especially then."

"Why?"

"Because I knew you weren't yourself."

I turned back.

"What does that mean?"

He stepped closer.

"You changed."

"When?"

"The moment you called me."

I froze.

"Why?"

"Because the Emma I knew would never have asked me for help."

My heart stopped.

"The Emma you knew?"

"Yes."

"What was she like?"

Nathan looked down.

"She trusted the wrong people."

I swallowed.

"And now?"

"Now you're looking at everyone."

I smiled faintly.

"Maybe dying changes people."

Nathan froze.

I realized my mistake.

Again.

He stared at me.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing."

"You said dying changes people."

"I was speaking metaphorically."

"Emma."

His voice was quiet.

But there was something in it.

He knew.

Or suspected.

I looked away.

"Forget it."

"No."

"Nathan..."

"You've said it twice."

My heart raced.

"What?"

"Things you couldn't know."

I couldn't answer.

He stepped closer.

"Who are you?"

I looked at him.

"I'm Emma."

"Are you?"

The question broke something inside me.

I wanted to tell him.

I wanted to tell him everything.

That I had died.

That I had watched him stand outside my funeral.

That I had remembered every lie.

Every betrayal.

Every moment.

But I was afraid.

What if he didn't believe me?

What if he did?

Before I could answer, his phone rang.

Nathan checked the screen.

His expression changed.

"Who is it?"

He didn't answer.

Then he picked up.

"Hello?"

Silence.

His face became pale.

"Where?"

He listened.

"How long?"

Another silence.

"Keep watching."

He hung up.

"What happened?"

He looked at me.

"They found her."

My heart stopped.

"My mother?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"She sent a message."

"To whom?"

"Me."

"Where is she?"

Nathan looked at the door.

"She's coming here."

I couldn't breathe.

"When?"

"Now."

We waited.

Five minutes.

Ten.

Fifteen.

Every second felt like an eternity.

I stood near the window.

Nathan stood by the door.

Neither of us spoke.

Then we heard footsteps in the hallway.

Slow.

Careful.

They stopped outside the apartment.

Three knocks.

Nathan looked at me.

"Stay behind me."

The door opened.

A woman entered.

She was wearing a long dark coat.

A scarf covered most of her face.

Her hair was streaked with gray.

She looked thinner.

Older.

But the moment she removed her sunglasses...

I knew.

My knees nearly gave out.

"Mom?"

The woman froze.

Her eyes widened.

Then filled with tears.

"Emma."

I couldn't move.

She stepped toward me.

"Emma..."

I ran to her.

She caught me in her arms.

For three years, I had imagined this moment.

But never like this.

I cried against her shoulder.

She held me tightly.

"I'm sorry."

I couldn't speak.

"I'm so sorry."

I pulled away.

"You were alive."

She nodded.

"I was."

"Why didn't you come home?"

"I couldn't."

"You let me believe you were dead."

"I had no choice."

"You had a choice!"

She flinched.

I immediately regretted shouting.

But the pain was too deep.

"You were alive."

"I know."

"I buried you."

"I know."

"I cried for you."

"I know."

"Every day."

She closed her eyes.

"I know."

I wiped my tears.

"Then why?"

My mother looked at Nathan.

He nodded.

She sat down.

"There are things you need to know."

I sat across from her.

"Tell me."

She took a deep breath.

"The night of the accident, your father and I were going to meet someone."

"Who?"

"Someone who had evidence."

"Evidence of what?"

"The people stealing from our companies."

"The Aurelia network."

She nodded.

"Yes."

"Who created it?"

"I don't know."

"But you knew who was involved."

"Some of them."

"Adrian?"

"Yes."

My heart tightened.

"Elena?"

My mother's face changed.

"Yes."

I closed my eyes.

"How could she?"

My mother reached for my hand.

"Because she was threatened."

"What?"

"Elena didn't start this willingly."

I looked at her.

"What are you saying?"

"She was blackmailed."

"By whom?"

"I don't know."

"Then why did she keep helping them?"

"Because they threatened you."

My heart stopped.

"Me?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"They told her that if she refused, you would die."

I stared at my mother.

"But she helped them."

"She believed she was protecting you."

I shook my head.

"No."

My mother looked at me.

"She made terrible choices."

"She betrayed me."

"Yes."

"She lied."

"Yes."

"She was there when I died."

My mother's eyes widened.

"What?"

I froze.

Nathan looked at me.

My mother whispered:

"When did you die?"

I couldn't breathe.

The room became silent.

I had said it again.

But this time...

There was no way to take it back.

My mother looked at Nathan.

Then at me.

"You remember."

I stared at her.

"What?"

She stood slowly.

"You remember the other life."

My blood froze.

Nathan looked between us.

"You know?"

My mother nodded.

"I always knew."

My heart stopped.

"You knew?"

She walked toward me.

"Your grandmother believed our family carried a curse."

"A curse?"

"Not a supernatural curse."

She touched my face.

"A warning."

"What warning?"

"That one day, someone in our family would be given a second chance."

I couldn't speak.

"Your grandmother told me that before she died."

"What did she say?"

My mother whispered:

"When the daughter dies unjustly, the story will begin again."

The room became completely silent.

I stared at her.

"That's impossible."

"Maybe."

"But you knew?"

"I hoped I was wrong."

Nathan looked confused.

"How could you know Emma would return?"

"I didn't."

My mother looked at me.

"I only knew that if she did..."

She paused.

"...she would come looking for the truth."

I felt cold.

"Then who sent me the messages?"

My mother looked toward the window.

"I don't know."

"Who knows about the second life?"

She hesitated.

"Someone who shouldn't."

My heart pounded.

"Who?"

Before she could answer, the lights went out.

The apartment fell into darkness.

Nathan immediately pulled out his weapon.

"Stay down."

My mother grabbed my hand.

A sound came from outside.

Glass breaking.

Then footsteps.

Nathan moved toward the door.

"Someone followed you."

My mother whispered:

"I was afraid of this."

A loud crash came from the hallway.

Someone shouted:

"Open the door!"

Nathan looked at us.

"Back room."

We ran.

Another crash.

The door began shaking.

Someone was trying to break it down.

I grabbed my mother's hand.

She was trembling.

For the first time, I saw fear in her eyes.

Not ordinary fear.

The fear of someone who had spent years running.

Then Nathan looked at me.

"There's another exit."

"Where?"

He pointed toward the kitchen.

"Window."

"We're on the fourth floor."

"There's a fire escape."

I helped my mother toward the window.

Behind us, the door splintered.

Nathan turned.

The first man entered.

Then another.

Nathan moved.

The room exploded into chaos.

My mother pushed me through the window.

"Go!"

I climbed onto the fire escape.

"Mom!"

She followed.

Nathan came behind us.

We ran down the metal stairs.

Gunshots echoed above.

I covered my ears.

We reached the alley.

Nathan grabbed both of us.

"Run!"

We disappeared into the darkness.

Twenty minutes later, we were in Nathan's car.

My mother sat in the back.

I sat beside Nathan.

Neither of us spoke.

Finally, I turned toward my mother.

"Who knows about my second life?"

She looked at me.

"I don't know."

"But you said someone shouldn't know."

"Yes."

"Who?"

She shook her head.

"I need to remember."

"Remember what?"

"The last thing your grandmother told me."

"What was it?"

My mother closed her eyes.

Then whispered:

"She said the person who knows about your second life..."

She opened her eyes.

"...will be the same person who caused your first death."

My blood froze.

Nathan's hands tightened around the steering wheel.

I looked at him.

"Then we have a problem."

"Why?"

I looked down at my phone.

Another message had arrived.

You found her.

My blood ran cold.

Then another:

Good.

And finally:

Now ask your mother who was sitting beside you when you died.

I stared at the message.

My mother leaned forward.

"What is it?"

I couldn't answer.

Nathan glanced at the screen.

His expression changed.

"Emma..."

I looked at him.

"What?"

He whispered:

"Your mother wasn't the only person who survived that night."

I stared at him.

"What do you mean?"

He looked at my mother.

She had gone completely pale.

Then she whispered:

"There was someone else."

I felt the blood drain from my face.

"Who?"

My mother looked directly into my eyes.

And said:

"Your sister."