Chapter 2

On the way to the hospital, I didn't say a word.

David was driving, his knuckles white on the wheel, veins bulging under the skin.

The air in the car was heavy and still.

Outside the window, the city lights blurred and faded behind us. Everything seemed unreal.

Rachel's accusation kept replaying in my head. I couldn't make it stop.

I never called her. I never asked her to pick up Emily. None of it had happened.

Emily had been with me the whole day. She was sick, barely able to lift her head off the pillow. I would never have let her go anywhere. So why was Rachel making up these lies? What was she trying to do?

"Don't think about it anymore," David said, his voice hoarse. "She probably panicked after the accident, and now she's babbling nonsense. Once we get there, we'll sort it out."

I didn't respond. My gut told me it was more than that. This wasn't someone talking out of panic. This was a lie, deliberate and precise. And it was aimed my daughter and me.

That same cold dread I'd felt earlier crept back into my chest.

Suddenly, I remembered something.

About two weeks ago, Rachel came over for dinner.

She held Emily, smiling. From her bag, she took out a small yellow duck hairpin and fastened it in Emily's hair. "So pretty," she said. "It's a present for you. Do you love it?"

Emily loved the hairpin. She'd been wearing it earlier today. Now it sat in the little box on her nightstand.

So what was it? What did the police find on the dead child?

I forced myself to stop thinking about it.

*****

The car stopped outside the ER at Millbrook General Hospital.

As soon as we got out, Ryan hurried over. "Mr. and Mrs. Saunders. This way. The driver is in the observation room down the hall."

He led us down a long corridor. The air was thick with the smell of antiseptic. My legs felt weak, as if I were walking through quicksand.

The observation room door was open. Inside, Rachel sat huddled in a chair, shivering. The white dress she wore was stained along the hem with dark, dried blood. Her hair was a mess, her makeup ruined from crying.

She looked like a broken thing. A small, frightened bird.

If the police hadn't already told me about her accusation, I might have rushed over and put my arms around her. But now all I felt was a chill rising from my feet, moving up through my whole body.

When Rachel saw me, her eyes lit up for an instant. Then the light died, and something else surfaced. Despair. And underneath it, hatred. Yes, hatred. She stared at me, her eyes full of venom.

But when she spoke, her voice was raw, splintering. "Julia, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. To you. To Emily." She sobbed, the apology dissolving into tears.

"When I got there, she was already lying in the road. I wanted to move the car to hide her, to keep anyone from seeing.

"But I panicked. I hit the wrong pedal. I swear I didn't mean to..." The words kept spilling out of her, broken and jumbled.

I stood there, watching her perform.

David had heard enough. He stepped forward, his voice exploding. "Rachel, have you lost your mind? What are you talking about? Emily is at home. She's fine."

Rachel's head jerked up, her eyes wild and red-rimmed. She stared at us. "You're lying," she screamed. "You're all lying to me. It was Emily. I saw her. She had on the yellow duck hairpin. The one I gave her."

There it was. The confirmation I'd been dreading. My heart tightened like a fist closing around it.

"She was wearing her favorite dress. The blue one. And that little bunny backpack. It was her!

"Julia, how can you be this cold? She's dead. Your own daughter. And you're still lying. You wanted to be free of her, right? You planned this. You made me go there. You set me up—"

Just then, David came in front of her. His hand came down hard across her face.

Rachel's head snapped to the side. The screaming stopped.

Two officers rushed over and pulled David back. "Mr. Saunders, please calm down."

The room dissolved into noise and movement.

I stayed still. I felt cold to the bone, but something hot was racing through me.

And then I understood. This was not an accident. It was a trap, a cruel plan, built around my daughter.

Rachel had been my closest friend for ten years. She wanted my daughter dead. Or she wanted the world to believe my daughter was dead. Why?

Marcus walked over and fixed his eyes on me. His face was grim. "Julia, I understand how difficult this is. But the body needs to be identified. You're the only person who can do it."

I looked up and met his gaze. When I spoke, my voice was low but clear. "There's no need for me to identify anyone. My daughter is alive."

Marcus sighed. There was sympathy on his face. "Mrs. Saunders, we recovered the child's backpack. Her school books were inside. They have your daughter's name. Emily Saunders.

"The dress, the hair clip, they all match. Now we're trying to reach the teacher for confirmation. I understand how you must feel. But the evidence is all pointing in one direction. The truth—"

"The truth is, she's been lying to all of you." I pointed at Rachel, still curled up in the chair, sobbing. "She's lying."

Rachel looked up at me, her eyes wild. "Julia, stop it. You're lying to yourself. How much longer can you keep this going? Come with me. I'll show you."

I was done talking. I turned and started for the door.

David and the officers stood frozen for a moment.

"Julia, where are you going?" David called after me.

"Home," I said without looking back. "Bring my daughter here. Let this lunatic see her. Let all of them see her. My daughter, Emily Saunders, is alive and well."