PART 4 \u2014 LOCKER 314
\n\u201cWho are you to me?\u201d
\nRichard didn\u2019t answer.
\nMy mother kept the gun pointed toward the ground, but her fingers were trembling.
\n\u201cTell her,\u201d she said.
\nRichard stared at me.
\n\u201cEmily, what your mother just said is technically true, but\u2014\u201d
\n\u201cTechnically?\u201d
\nMy voice cracked.
\n\u201cMy father\u2019s will called you his SON.\u201d
\n\u201cI know.\u201d
\n\u201cAre you my brother?\u201d
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\nThe answer came instantly.
\nI stared at him.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cThen explain it.\u201d
\nRichard looked toward my mother.
\nShe gave a bitter laugh.
\n\u201cGo ahead, Daniel. Tell her the version you rehearsed.\u201d
\n\u201cI never rehearsed anything.\u201d
\n\u201cYou\u2019ve had six years.\u201d
\n\u201cSTOP!\u201d
\nMy scream echoed across the cemetery.
\nBoth of them fell silent.
\nI held up my father\u2019s note.
\n\u201cI have spent fourteen months wondering why I crashed.\u201d
\nMy voice shook.
\n\u201cI woke up unable to remember pieces of my own life. And apparently everyone around me decided that gave them permission to rewrite it.\u201d
\nNeither of them spoke.
\n\u201cSo nobody leaves until somebody tells me the truth.\u201d
\nRichard slowly nodded.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cMy mother worked for your father.\u201d
\n\u201cWhat kind of work?\u201d
\n\u201cShe was his bookkeeper when they were young.\u201d
\n\u201cAnd?\u201d
\n\u201cShe became pregnant.\u201d
\nMy stomach tightened.
\nMy mother looked away.
\nRichard continued.
\n\u201cEveryone assumed your father was responsible.\u201d
\n\u201cWas he?\u201d
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\n\u201cHow do you know?\u201d
\n\u201cBecause my biological father was your father\u2019s younger brother.\u201d
\nI blinked.
\n\u201cUncle Thomas?\u201d
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\nI remembered Thomas only through photographs.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
He died before I was born.
\n\u201cSo you\u2019re my cousin.\u201d
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\nThe word should have brought relief.
\nInstead, it made everything stranger.
\n\u201cThen why did Dad list you as his son?\u201d
\n\u201cBecause Thomas died before I was born. My mother had almost nothing. Your father supported us.\u201d
\n\u201cHe could have called you his nephew.\u201d
\n\u201cHe did privately. But years later, when he started estate planning, he wanted to make sure I was protected if anything happened to him. The first draft listed me under \u2018children and dependents.\u2019 Someone shortened that to \u2018son\u2019 in a summary your mother found.\u201d
\nI turned toward Mom.
\n\u201cYou knew this?\u201d
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\n\u201cAnd you thought he was Dad\u2019s child?\u201d
\n\u201cFor years.\u201d
\n\u201cDid you ever ask Dad?\u201d
\nHer mouth tightened.
\n\u201cYour father wasn\u2019t exactly generous with explanations.\u201d
\nRichard laughed bitterly.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cThat didn\u2019t give you the right to destroy his family.\u201d
\nMy mother raised the gun.
\n\u201cCareful.\u201d
\n\u201cMom, lower it.\u201d
\n\u201cEmily\u2014\u201d
\n\u201cLOWER IT.\u201d
\nShe slowly did.
\nI looked at Richard.
\n\u201cDad\u2019s note says you betrayed him first.\u201d
\nRichard\u2019s face changed.
\n\u201cThat\u2019s true.\u201d
\nMy stomach dropped.
\n\u201cHow?\u201d
\n\u201cI gave Marcus information.\u201d
\nMy mother laughed.
\n\u201cThere it is.\u201d
\nRichard ignored her.
\n\u201cSix years ago, your father discovered someone was stealing from his companies. He asked me to help trace the payments because I had access to hospital charity accounts that were being used to wash some of the money.\u201d
\n\u201cHospital accounts?\u201d
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\n\u201cSo this goes back to where you worked?\u201d
\n\u201cEverything goes back there.\u201d
\nI felt sick.
\n\u201cWhat information did you give Marcus?\u201d
\n\u201cA location.\u201d
\n\u201cWhat location?\u201d
\n\u201cYour father\u2019s private office.\u201d
\nMy mother closed her eyes.
\nRichard continued.
\n\u201cMarcus told me he was working with investigators. I believed him.\u201d
\n\u201cYou expect me to believe that?\u201d
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\nHis voice broke.
\n\u201cI expect you to know I was stupid.\u201d
\n\u201cWhat happened?\u201d
\n\u201cMarcus went there before I realized what he was really doing.\u201d
\n\u201cAnd my father?\u201d
\nRichard looked at the grave beside us.
\n\u201cHe was inside.\u201d
\nThe air left my lungs.
\n\u201cYou said Dad called you three hours before he died.\u201d
\n\u201cHe did.\u201d
\n\u201cAfter you gave Marcus the address?\u201d
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\n\u201cWhat did Dad say?\u201d
\nRichard swallowed.
\n\u201cHe said, \u2018You led him to me.\u2019\u201d
\nSilence.
\nI looked at the name carved into the headstone.
\nMy father.
\nSuddenly, Richard\u2019s guilt made sense.
\nNot all of it.
\nBut enough.
\n\u201cYou thought you caused his death.\u201d
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\n\u201cDid you?\u201d
\n\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d
\nMy mother whispered, \u201cHe didn\u2019t.\u201d
\nWe both turned toward her.
\nRichard stared.
\n\u201cWhat?\u201d
\nMy mother\u2019s face had gone pale.
\n\u201cMarcus didn\u2019t kill Robert.\u201d
\n\u201cThen who did?\u201d
\nShe looked at me.
\n\u201cI\u2019ve been trying to tell myself for six years that I didn\u2019t know what would happen.\u201d
\nMy heartbeat slowed.
\n\u201cMom.\u201d
\n\u201cI was angry at your father.\u201d
\n\u201cAbout the money?\u201d
\n\u201cAbout everything.\u201d
\nHer eyes filled with tears.
\n\u201cHe was planning to divorce me.\u201d
\nI said nothing.
\n\u201cHe had discovered the transfers.\u201d
\n\u201cYou were stealing from him.\u201d
\n\u201cAt first, no.\u201d
\n\u201cWhat does that mean?\u201d
\n\u201cMarcus came to me with an investment opportunity. He said we could move money temporarily and return it before Robert noticed.\u201d
\nRichard scoffed.
\n\u201cAnd you believed him?\u201d
\n\u201cI wanted to.\u201d
\n\u201cHow much?\u201d
\nI asked.
\nMy mother looked at the ground.
\n\u201cEventually?\u201d
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\n\u201cAlmost four million dollars.\u201d
\nI felt physically ill.
\n\u201cFour million?\u201d
\n\u201cI didn\u2019t spend it.\u201d
\n\u201cThat makes it better?\u201d
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\nShe wiped her cheek.
\n\u201cMarcus controlled most of it. When I tried to stop, he threatened to tell your father I had created the accounts.\u201d
\n\u201cSo you kept helping him.\u201d
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\n\u201cAnd Dad found out.\u201d
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\n\u201cWhat happened the night he died?\u201d
\nMom stared at the grave.
\n\u201cRobert confronted me.\u201d
\n\u201cWhere?\u201d
\n\u201cAt his office.\u201d
\n\u201cWas Marcus there?\u201d
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\n\u201cRichard?\u201d
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\n\u201cThen what happened?\u201d
\nHer voice became barely audible.
\n\u201cWe argued.\u201d
\nI waited.
\n\u201cHe said he was going to the police.\u201d
\n\u201cAnd?\u201d
\n\u201cI begged him not to.\u201d
\nMy stomach twisted.
\n\u201cWhat did you do?\u201d
\n\u201cHe walked toward his desk to call his attorney.\u201d
\nShe stopped.
\n\u201cMom.\u201d
\n\u201cI grabbed his arm.\u201d
\n\u201cThen what?\u201d
\n\u201cHe pulled away.\u201d
\nTears rolled down her face.
\n\u201cAnd he fell.\u201d
\nI stared at her.
\n\u201cHe hit the corner of the desk.\u201d
\nRichard went completely silent.
\n\u201cThere was blood,\u201d she whispered.
\n\u201cSo you called an ambulance.\u201d
\nShe didn\u2019t answer.
\n\u201cMom?\u201d
\n\u201cI panicked.\u201d
\nMy skin went cold.
\n\u201cWhat did you do?\u201d
\n\u201cI called Marcus.\u201d
\nRichard cursed under his breath.
\n\u201cMarcus came to the office. Robert was still breathing.\u201d
\nI felt something inside me break.
\n\u201cHe was alive?\u201d
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\n\u201cAnd you didn\u2019t call an ambulance?\u201d
\n\u201cI wanted to.\u201d
\n\u201cBut you didn\u2019t.\u201d
\n\u201cMarcus said if Robert survived, we would both go to prison.\u201d
\nMy voice disappeared.
\n\u201cWhat did Marcus do?\u201d
\nMy mother shook her head violently.
\n\u201cI left the room.\u201d
\n\u201cWhat did he DO?\u201d
\n\u201cI DON\u2019T KNOW!\u201d
\nHer scream tore through the cemetery.
\n\u201cI walked outside. When Marcus came out fifteen minutes later, he said Robert was dead.\u201d
\nNobody spoke.
\nFor six years, I had believed my father died alone from a heart attack.
\nNow I knew my mother had left him injured with a man who wanted him silent.
\n\u201cYou let me bury him believing it was natural.\u201d
\n\u201cI was afraid.\u201d
\n\u201cYou let me comfort YOU.\u201d
\n\u201cI know.\u201d
\n\u201cYou watched me cry for my father while you knew.\u201d
\n\u201cI KNOW!\u201d
\nI stepped away from her.
\nShe reached toward me.
\n\u201cDon\u2019t.\u201d
\nHer hand fell.
\nRichard spoke quietly.
\n\u201cEmily, we need to go.\u201d
\nI looked at him.
\n\u201cWhere?\u201d
\nHis eyes dropped to the brass key in my hand.
\n\u201cLocker 314.\u201d
\nMy mother\u2019s head snapped up.
\n\u201cYou found the key?\u201d
\nThat reaction told me everything.
\n\u201cYou\u2019ve been looking for it too.\u201d
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\n\u201cYou\u2019re lying.\u201d
\n\u201cEmily, whatever Robert put in that locker could destroy people who won\u2019t hesitate to hurt you.\u201d
\n\u201cMarcus?\u201d
\n\u201cNot only Marcus.\u201d
\nRichard and I exchanged a glance.
\n\u201cWhat does that mean?\u201d
\nMy mother didn\u2019t answer.
\nThen Richard\u2019s phone rang.
\nUnknown number.
\nHe answered on speaker.
\nMarcus\u2019s voice filled the air.
\n\u201cTouching reunion.\u201d
\nMy mother spun around, scanning the cemetery.
\n\u201cWhere are you?\u201d
\nMarcus laughed.
\n\u201cClose enough.\u201d
\nRichard stepped in front of me.
\n\u201cWhat do you want?\u201d
\n\u201cYou already know.\u201d
\n\u201cThe key?\u201d
\n\u201cThe contents of Locker 314.\u201d
\nI gripped it tighter.
\nMarcus continued.
\n\u201cEmily, your father left you something that was never meant to reach a courtroom.\u201d
\n\u201cWhat?\u201d
\n\u201cGo open the locker.\u201d
\n\u201cWhy would you want me to?\u201d
\n\u201cBecause I can\u2019t.\u201d
\nI frowned.
\n\u201cWhy?\u201d
\n\u201cThe station replaced the old lockers years ago. Your father didn\u2019t use an ordinary storage locker.\u201d
\nRichard looked at the key.
\n\u201cWhat did he use?\u201d
\n\u201cA private vault operated beneath the station.\u201d
\nMarcus sounded almost amused.
\n\u201cAnd it requires two things.\u201d
\n\u201cThe key and what?\u201d
\n\u201cEmily.\u201d
\nI froze.
\n\u201cMe?\u201d
\n\u201cYour father registered you as the beneficiary.\u201d
\nRichard whispered, \u201cThat\u2019s why Marcus kept you alive after the crash.\u201d
\nMarcus heard him.
\n\u201cVery good, Daniel.\u201d
\nMy mother stared at the phone.
\n\u201cYou stay away from her.\u201d
\nMarcus laughed.
\n\u201cHelen, you lost the right to play mother years ago.\u201d
\nThe call ended.
\nWe didn\u2019t argue anymore.
\nForty minutes later, Richard and I were walking through Union Station.
\nMom came with us.
\nI didn\u2019t want her there.
\nBut I wanted her where I could see her.
\nWe found the private vault office behind an unmarked door near the old baggage wing.
\nAn elderly clerk sat behind a glass counter.
\nI placed the key in front of him.
\n\u201cLocker 314.\u201d
\nHe examined it.
\nThen he looked at me.
\n\u201cName?\u201d
\n\u201cEmily Carter.\u201d
\nHis expression changed.
\n\u201cIdentification.\u201d
\nI handed him my driver\u2019s license.
\nHe studied it.
\nThen he picked up a telephone.
\n\u201cIs something wrong?\u201d
\n\u201cNo, ma\u2019am.\u201d
\n\u201cThen why are you calling someone?\u201d
\n\u201cBecause we\u2019ve had instructions attached to Vault 314 for six years.\u201d
\nMy pulse quickened.
\n\u201cWhat instructions?\u201d
\n\u201cIf Emily Carter ever comes to open it, she must receive the entire contents personally.\u201d
\nHe hung up.
\nA security guard appeared.
\n\u201cFollow me.\u201d
\nWe descended a narrow staircase.
\nAt the bottom was a corridor lined with steel doors.
\n314.
\nThe guard inserted my key.
\nThen entered a code.
\nThe lock clicked.
\n\u201cOnly the beneficiary can enter first.\u201d
\nRichard squeezed my hand.
\nI almost pulled away.
\nBut didn\u2019t.
\nI stepped inside.
\nThe vault was tiny.
\nA metal shelf.
\nA sealed envelope.
\nA flash drive.
\nA red folder.
\nI stopped breathing.
\nThere it was.
\nThe real red folder.
\nI picked it up.
\nInside were bank records.
\nPhotographs.
\nNames.
\nTransfers.
\nProperty deeds.
\nAnd copies of documents bearing my mother\u2019s signature.
\nHer knees weakened when she saw them.
\n\u201cOh God.\u201d
\nBut Richard was staring at something else.
\nA photograph clipped to the final page.
\n\u201cWhat?\u201d
\nHe pointed.
\nIt showed my father standing beside Marcus.
\nAnd beside them was a third man.
\nI recognized him instantly.
\nDr. Samuel Keane.
\nThe neurologist who treated me after my accident.
\nMy hands began trembling.
\n\u201cWhy is my doctor in Dad\u2019s file?\u201d
\nRichard whispered, \u201cEmily\u2026\u201d
\nI opened the sealed envelope.
\nInside was a letter.
\nMy dearest Emily,
\nIf you are reading this, then I failed to fix what I helped create.
\nMarcus is not the beginning of this.
\nNeither is your mother.
\nThe hospital is.
\nI looked at Richard.
\n\u201cWhat does that mean?\u201d
\nI kept reading.
\nYears ago, I discovered that money from my companies was being routed through a medical foundation. When I investigated, I learned the foundation was paying people to alter patient records, death certificates, toxicology reports, and insurance claims.
\nMy mouth went dry.
\nDad continued.
\nIf anything happens to me, do not trust any medical conclusion connected to St. Vincent\u2019s Hospital.
\nI stopped.
\nSt. Vincent\u2019s.
\nThe hospital where Richard worked.
\nThe hospital where I woke up after the accident.
\nThe hospital that told me my memory loss was caused by head trauma.
\nI looked at Richard.
\n\u201cYou knew?\u201d
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\nBut he looked terrified.
\nI grabbed the flash drive.
\n\u201cWhat\u2019s on this?\u201d
\nNobody knew.
\nThere was an old computer terminal inside the vault office.
\nThe clerk allowed us to use it.
\nI inserted the drive.
\nThere were dozens of folders.
\nBANK RECORDS.
\nFOUNDATION.
\nMARCUS.
\nHELEN.
\nKEANE.
\nThen one folder made Richard step backward.
\nDANIEL MERCER.
\nI looked at him.
\n\u201cOpen it,\u201d he whispered.
\nInside were scanned documents.
\nPayments.
\nPersonnel records.
\nEmails.
\nAnd an audio file dated two days before my father\u2019s death.
\nI clicked it.
\nMy father\u2019s voice filled the room.
\n\u201cIf you\u2019re hearing this, Emily, there is something you need to understand about Daniel.\u201d
\nRichard closed his eyes.
\nMy father continued.
\n\u201cDaniel betrayed me once. But when he realized what Marcus was doing, he came back and tried to help. I was angry with him, but I believe he was manipulated.\u201d
\nRichard\u2019s eyes filled with tears.
\nThen Dad said:
\n\u201cIf Daniel is with you now, listen to him.\u201d
\nRichard looked stunned.
\nMy father had forgiven him.
\nBut the recording wasn\u2019t over.
\n\u201cThere is one thing Daniel does not know.\u201d
\nI leaned closer.
\n\u201cThe hospital has been testing a drug designed to interfere with memory consolidation after trauma. Dr. Keane is involved.\u201d
\nMy entire body went numb.
\nRichard whispered, \u201cNo.\u201d
\nDad continued.
\n\u201cIf they ever get close to you, Emily, they may not need to kill you.\u201d
\nA pause.
\n\u201cThey may only need to make you forget.\u201d
\nI stared at the computer.
\nMy accident.
\nMy missing memories.
\nRichard\u2019s strange behavior at the hospital.
\nDr. Keane telling me not to force myself to remember.
\nI suddenly remembered an injection.
\nA nurse holding my arm.
\nDr. Keane saying:
\n\u201cThis will help you rest.\u201d
\nI turned toward Richard.
\n\u201cWhat medication did they give me?\u201d
\n\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d
\n\u201cYou were my nurse.\u201d
\n\u201cI wasn\u2019t assigned to you every shift.\u201d
\n\u201cBut you had access to my chart.\u201d
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\n\u201cThen check.\u201d
\n\u201cI can\u2019t access old records anymore.\u201d
\nMy mother whispered, \u201cI can.\u201d
\nWe both looked at her.
\n\u201cWhat?\u201d
\nShe was staring at the floor.
\n\u201cMarcus gave me something after the crash.\u201d
\nMy stomach tightened.
\n\u201cWhat did he give you?\u201d
\n\u201cA vial.\u201d
\nRichard went pale.
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\n\u201cHe told me to give it to Dr. Keane.\u201d
\nI could barely breathe.
\n\u201cYou helped them drug me?\u201d
\n\u201cI didn\u2019t know what it was.\u201d
\n\u201cYou gave a doctor an unmarked vial for your injured daughter?\u201d
\n\u201cI was terrified you would remember Marcus!\u201d
\nMy eyes filled with tears.
\n\u201cSo you DID know.\u201d
\n\u201cI knew he had been in the car.\u201d
\n\u201cYou let them erase my memory.\u201d
\n\u201cI thought it was temporary.\u201d
\nI backed away from her.
\nThen the computer beeped.
\nA new file appeared on the screen.
\nIt hadn\u2019t been there before.
\nLIVE CONNECTION ESTABLISHED.
\nRichard stared.
\n\u201cWhat the hell?\u201d
\nA video window opened.
\nDr. Keane appeared.
\nOlder than I remembered.
\nGray hair.
\nSame calm eyes.
\nHe was sitting somewhere dark.
\n\u201cHello, Emily.\u201d
\nMy blood froze.
\nRichard moved toward the computer.
\n\u201cHow are you connected to this?\u201d
\nKeane smiled.
\n\u201cRobert designed the drive to transmit when accessed. Clever man.\u201d
\n\u201cWhere is Marcus?\u201d
\nKeane ignored him.
\nInstead, he looked directly into the camera.
\n\u201cYou\u2019ve spent fourteen months believing the accident stole your memory.\u201d
\nMy hands tightened around the desk.
\n\u201cIt didn\u2019t.\u201d
\n\u201cWhat did you give me?\u201d
\n\u201cA treatment.\u201d
\n\u201cYou drugged me.\u201d
\n\u201cYes.\u201d
\nMy mother covered her mouth.
\nRichard shouted, \u201cWhy?\u201d
\nKeane smiled.
\n\u201cBecause Emily saw something that night none of you know about.\u201d
\nI stared at him.
\n\u201cWhat?\u201d
\n\u201cYou think Marcus was your passenger because you remember his voice.\u201d
\n\u201cHe was.\u201d
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\nMy heartbeat stopped.
\n\u201cMarcus got into your car after you stopped at the old service road.\u201d
\nI frowned.
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\n\u201cYou already had a passenger.\u201d
\nPain exploded behind my eyes.
\nA flash.
\nSomeone sitting beside me.
\nNot Marcus.
\nA woman.
\nCrying.
\nI grabbed my head.
\n\u201cEmily!\u201d
\nRichard caught me.
\nAnother memory hit.
\nThe woman was holding the red folder.
\nHer face turned toward me.
\nI screamed.
\nBecause I knew her.
\nI looked at my mother.
\nShe was standing across the room.
\nBut the woman in my memory had my mother\u2019s face.
\nOnly younger.
\nMuch younger.
\nImpossible.
\n\u201cWhat did you do to me?\u201d I whispered.
\nKeane leaned toward the camera.
\n\u201cAsk Helen about her sister.\u201d
\nI turned slowly toward Mom.
\nRichard did too.
\nMy mother\u2019s face went completely white.
\n\u201cI don\u2019t have a sister,\u201d she whispered.
\nKeane laughed.
\n\u201cThat lie lasted longer than I expected.\u201d
\n\u201cMom?\u201d
\nShe backed toward the door.
\n\u201cEmily, we need to leave.\u201d
\n\u201cWho was in my car?\u201d
\n\u201cNo one.\u201d
\n\u201cI REMEMBER HER!\u201d
\n\u201cYou\u2019re confused.\u201d
\n\u201cShe looked like you!\u201d
\nMy mother began crying.
\n\u201cPlease.\u201d
\n\u201cWHO WAS SHE?\u201d
\nThen the lights went out.
\nTotal darkness.
\nMy mother screamed.
\nSomething crashed.
\nRichard grabbed me.
\n\u201cStay behind me.\u201d
\nA gunshot exploded somewhere in the corridor.
\nThen another.
\nThe emergency lights flickered red.
\nThe vault door slammed shut.
\n\u201cMom?\u201d
\nNo answer.
\n\u201cMOM!\u201d
\nRichard tried the handle.
\nLocked.
\nThen my phone vibrated.
\nA message.
\nUnknown number.
\nI opened it.
\nOne sentence.
\nHELEN LIED ABOUT MORE THAN YOUR FATHER.
\nAnother message appeared.
\nA photograph loaded beneath it.
\nI stared at the screen.
\nIt was taken twenty-eight years ago.
\nMy mother stood outside St. Vincent\u2019s Hospital beside another woman.
\nIdentical face.
\nIdentical eyes.
\nIdentical smile.
\nTwins.
\nOn the back of the photograph, someone had written two names:
\nHELEN CARTER.
\nEVELYN CARTER.
\nAnd beneath Evelyn\u2019s name:
\nEMILY\u2019S BIOLOGICAL MOTHER.
\nMy phone slipped from my hand.
\nRichard stared at the photograph.
\nI couldn\u2019t speak.
\nMy entire childhood collapsed in one second.
\nThen a third message arrived.
\nThis one contained a video.
\nI pressed play.
\nA woman appeared on the screen.
\nOlder now.
\nAlive.
\nShe looked exactly like my mother.
\nShe stared directly into the camera.
\nThen she said the words that made my knees give out.
\n\u201cEmily, if you\u2019re watching this, Helen has finally run out of lies.\u201d
\nShe leaned closer.
\n\u201cI\u2019m Evelyn.\u201d
\nHer voice trembled.
\n\u201cAnd I was the woman sitting beside you the night of your accident.\u201d……………<\/p>\n
PART 4 \u2014 LOCKER 314 \u201cWho are you to me?\u201d Richard didn\u2019t answer. My mother kept the gun pointed toward the ground, but her fingers were trembling. \u201cTell her,\u201d she … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":5199,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-6836","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-story"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6836","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=6836"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6836\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6839,"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6836\/revisions\/6839"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/5199"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=6836"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=6836"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echostoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=6836"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}