Chapter 3: What Happened After Midnight
The Mercer estate looked completely different at night.
During the day, it appeared grand.
Beautiful.
Almost magical.
At midnight, it looked cold.
The lights were dim.
The windows reflected nothing but darkness.
I sat in my car for several minutes, questioning my decision.
This was insane.
I was sneaking into my future in-laws' house because my future sister-in-law gave me a mysterious note.
A normal person would have called Daniel.
A normal person would have asked questions.
But I already knew what Daniel would say.
He would tell me Emily was complicated.
He would tell me not to worry.
He would tell me everything was under control.
And somehow, I no longer believed him.
I got out of the car.
The front gate was locked.
I was about to leave when I noticed a small side entrance near the garden.
It was slightly open.
My heart started beating faster.
Emily had left it that way.
I stepped inside.
The garden was silent.
The mansion stood above me like a giant watching everything.
I followed the path toward the back entrance.
The door opened before I touched it.
Emily was standing there.
She looked terrified.
"You came.""
I nodded.
"You asked me to.""
She closed the door quickly.
"Keep your voice down.""
"Emily, what's going on?""
She looked toward the hallway.
Then whispered:
"I need you to see something.""
She led me upstairs.
Not toward the bedrooms.
Toward a smaller hallway I hadn't noticed earlier.
At the end was a door.
Emily unlocked it.
Inside was a room.
A small room.
Almost empty.
There was a bed.
A desk.
A few books.
Nothing else.
"This is where I stay now.""
I looked around.
"Now?""
She swallowed.
"I used to have a bigger room.""
The way she said it made my stomach tighten.
"Emily, why are you showing me this?""
She walked to the desk.
Opened a drawer.
Pulled out a folder.
Inside were medical documents.
I looked at the papers.
Then looked at her.
"I don't understand.""
She laughed quietly.
But there was no humor in it.
"Nobody ever does.""
She sat down.
"My mother tells everyone I'm sick.""
"Are you?""
Emily stared at the floor.
"Not the way she says.""
A cold feeling moved through me.
"What does that mean?""
She looked up.
"Claire, my mother controls everything I eat.""
I said nothing.
"Everything.""
Her voice cracked.
"She decides what I can have. She decides what doctors I see. She decides what people think about me.""
"Why?""
Emily's eyes filled with tears.
"Because if everyone believes I'm weak, nobody listens to me.""
The room felt smaller.
"What happened?""
Emily looked toward the closed door.
Then whispered:
"I tried to leave.""
My breath caught.
"When?""
"Two years ago.""
"What happened?""
"She convinced everyone I was unstable.""
I felt my hands go cold.
"Daniel too?""
Emily didn't answer immediately.
That was the answer.
"Your brother believed her?""
"He wanted to believe her.""
Those words hurt more than anger would have.
Because they sounded like forgiveness.
And somehow that made it worse.
Emily opened another folder.
Inside were printed emails.
Messages.
Records.
"I found these hidden in my mother's office.""
I read the first page.
My heart dropped.
They weren't about Emily's illness.
They were about controlling her.
About monitoring her.
About deciding who she could speak to.
"This can't be real.""
"I wish it wasn't.""
I looked at her.
"Why me?""
Emily wiped her eyes.
"Because Daniel loves you.""
I froze.
"What does that have to do with anything?""
"Because you're the first person he has brought home who looked at me like a person.""
I didn't know what to say.
She continued.
"Everyone else either believed my parents or avoided getting involved.""
"Why not tell Daniel?""
Her expression broke.
"Because I already did.""
Silence.
"What happened?""
Emily looked away.
"He told me I was confused.""
That sentence stayed in the room.
Heavy.
Painful.
I thought about Daniel.
The man who held my hand.
The man who told me he cared about family.
The man who always said Emily was complicated.
For the first time, I wondered if "complicated" was just another word for "someone we don't want you to understand.""
Then Emily grabbed my hand.
"Claire, you can't tell them you know.""
"Why?""
"Because if my mother realizes I talked to you...""
She stopped.
She didn't finish the sentence.
She didn't have to.
I understood.
And that was the moment I realized something terrifying.
Emily wasn't asking me to help her escape.
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She was asking me to survive long enough to help her.
And the person I was supposed to marry might be part of the reason she needed saving.
