Chapter 3 - THE BRAKES
I didn’t sleep.
By sunrise, I had photographed every document in the briefcase and returned everything exactly where I found it.
Then I made my first mistake.
I called my best friend.
Mara answered on the second ring.
“Oh my God, Jessi.”
“Don’t say my name too loudly.”
Silence.
Then her voice dropped.
“What happened?”
I told her almost everything.
The fake amnesia.
Julian calling himself my brother.
Clara.
The condo.
The courthouse photograph.
Mara remained silent for five terrifying seconds.
Then she said, “There’s something you need to know about your accident.”
My fingers tightened around the phone.
“What?”
She had gone to the impound lot the previous afternoon to retrieve my laptop from my wrecked Subaru.
The mechanic working beside the police tow officer had shown her something underneath the car.
My brake line hadn’t simply failed.
It had been damaged.
Deliberately.
“Mara, are you sure?”
“The officer filed an additional report.”
My skin went cold.
Someone had tried to hurt me.
And my husband had used my supposed memory loss to erase our marriage immediately afterward.
A knock sounded behind me.
I almost dropped the phone.
Julian stood inside the doorway.
I hadn’t heard him enter.
His eyes moved from my face to the phone.
“Who were you talking to?”
I forced confusion into my expression.
“I don’t know.”
He stared at me.
Then my phone vibrated.
A message appeared from Mara.
I turned the screen downward too late.
Julian had already seen it.
May you like
The message contained only six words:
THE POLICE KNOW ABOUT THE BRAKES.
