Chapter 6 - The Third Figure
Caleb stared at the photograph until the projector went black.
“Who is that?”
June moved closer to the wall.
“I don’t know.”
“Meredith was fifteen.”
“Yes.”
“My father was forty.”
“Yes.”
“And whoever took this knew all three were here.”
June examined the image file stored in the projector.
“There’s metadata.”
Caleb looked over her shoulder.
The photograph had been scanned only two months earlier.
“This isn’t some forgotten family archive,” June said.
“Someone is building this.”
“For what?”
“To make you keep following.”
A car door slammed outside.
Caleb turned.
“Stay here.”
He stepped toward the entrance.
Meredith stood near the water.
Alone.
Caleb’s rage returned immediately.
“Where is Elara?”
Meredith raised both hands.
“I don’t have her.”
“You called me after she disappeared.”
“Because I knew they would take her.”
“Who?”
Meredith looked at June.
“She shouldn’t be here.”
June moved beside Caleb.
“Get used to disappointment.”
Meredith ignored her.
“Caleb, I did terrible things.”
“That’s one way to describe burning my daughter.”
Meredith flinched.
“I wasn’t supposed to hurt her.”
June stepped forward.
“You pressed an iron onto a baby.”
“I know!”
Meredith’s composure shattered.
“I know what I did.”
Caleb stared.
Meredith began crying.
Not gracefully.
Not strategically.
She looked terrified.
“They told me to frighten you.”
“Who?”
“To create a scandal around June. Get her removed. Make you stop trusting household staff.”
“Who told you?”
Meredith shook her head.
“I can’t.”
Caleb grabbed her shoulders.
“My daughter is missing.”
“And if I give you the name, she could die.”
“Then tell me anyway.”
Meredith looked toward the lake.
“You think this started with Elara?”
“What does that mean?”
She swallowed.
“The Whitcombs have been paying for one night for almost thirty years.”
Caleb’s grip loosened.
“My mother.”
Meredith closed her eyes.
“I saw her die.”
The words landed like a gunshot.
Caleb stepped back.
“You were there?”
“Yes.”
“Who killed her?”
Meredith shook her head again.
“I saw enough to know your father spent the rest of his life trying to contain it.”
June asked quietly, “Who was the third person?”
Meredith looked at her.
Her expression changed.
Recognition.
Then horror.
“You really don’t know?”
June frowned.
“What?”
Meredith backed away.
“Of course you don’t.”
“Know what?”
Meredith turned toward Caleb.
“That photograph wasn’t meant for you.”
“Then who?”
Meredith pointed at June.
“It was meant for her.”
June stared.
“Why?”
May you like
Meredith whispered:
“Because the third person is your sister.”
