Chapter 5 - The Woman Before Sophie
We let Rachel inside.
She refused coffee.
Refused water.
She sat at our kitchen table with both hands wrapped around the envelope as though someone might try to take it.
Ava was asleep upstairs.
For the first time since the incident, the house felt quiet enough to hear the refrigerator motor cycle on and off.
Sophie sat across from Rachel.
“What do you mean his name was Mason Dunn?”
“He used mine.”
“You were married?”
Rachel nodded.
“For eleven months.”
Sophie went perfectly still.
“Mason told me he’d never been married.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“When?”
“Seven years ago.”
“What happened?”
Rachel glanced at me.
I stayed silent.
This was Sophie’s question.
Rachel opened the envelope.
Inside were court documents.
A marriage certificate.
Divorce filings.
Photographs.
The man in the wedding picture was younger and heavier through the face, but there was no doubt.
Mason.
Rachel slid the marriage certificate forward.
His legal name then had been Mason Reed.
He had taken Dunn socially after the wedding but never completed the legal change.
“What does this have to do with me?” Sophie asked.
Rachel’s mouth tightened.
“He liked my family before he liked me.”
Sophie’s eyes narrowed.
“My father owned three automotive dealerships. I had shares in two.”
“And Mason knew?”
“He knew before our second date.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re saying he married you for money.”
Rachel gave a humorless laugh.
“I’m saying I spent years refusing to say that because it made me feel like an idiot.”
Sophie’s jaw tightened.
“Don’t.”
“What?”
“Don’t sit there and look at me like I’m the next idiot.”
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Sophie,” I said.
“No, Mom.”
Rachel did not react defensively.
Instead she pushed another document across the table.
It was an emergency psychiatric evaluation.
Her own.
“I ended up in a hospital for six days.”
Sophie stopped breathing for a moment.
“What happened?”
“Mason told everyone I was unstable.”
“Were you?”
Rachel looked directly at her.
“I was angry.”
That answer landed hard.
“He moved money between our accounts,” she continued. “He lied about where he went. Things disappeared from the house. He told me conversations had never happened. Then he would apologize, cry, swear he was under pressure. I started checking everything. Receipts. Messages. Bank statements. He told my parents I was becoming obsessive.”
My throat felt tight.
Rachel pointed at the scar near her eyebrow.
“One night we argued. He shoved me. I hit a cabinet. By morning, he was telling my father I attacked him.”
Sophie whispered, “Did his sister help?”
Rachel’s face changed.
“There was always a woman.”
“Erica?”
“She called herself Emily.”
I felt every hair on my arms rise.
Rachel reached into the envelope and removed a photograph.
Erica.
Different hair.
Thinner.
But Erica.
“That’s her,” Sophie said.
“She said she was his cousin.”
“His cousin?”
Rachel nodded.
“She became my friend.”
Sophie pushed away from the table so hard the chair scraped.
“No.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No.”
“She knew things about me only someone close would know. Arguments with my mother. Problems with my father. Password hints. Where documents were stored.”
“Stop.”
Rachel stopped.
Sophie walked to the sink.
I wanted to follow.
I didn’t.
She needed the freedom to stand without me hovering.
Rachel spoke quietly.
“I contacted you because I saw a local neighborhood post about police being at this address yesterday.”
“Who posted it?” I asked.
“One of those community groups. Someone mentioned a domestic incident.”
“And you recognized the address?”
“No.”
“Then how did you know?”
Rachel looked ashamed.
“I searched Mason about twice a year.”
Sophie turned around.
“Why?”
“To see who came next.”
There was no cruelty in the answer.
Only guilt.
“I found your wedding announcement three months ago. Carter-Reed. I saw his picture.”
“And you didn’t warn me.”
Rachel flinched.
“I tried once with the woman after me.”
“There was someone after you?”
“She told Mason. He contacted my employer and accused me of stalking him. I nearly lost my job.”
“How many women?”
“I know of two besides me.”
The room went silent.
I thought of the photograph outside storage locker 317.
Pregnant Sophie walking to her car.
SHE STILL TALKS TO THE MOTHER EVERY DAY.
“What happened to the others?” I asked.
“One left before they married. The other...” Rachel hesitated.
“What?”
“She disappeared from social media. I never found out.”
Sophie folded her arms over her stomach.
Her wedding ring caught the kitchen light.
She looked down at it.
Then pulled it off.
The indentation remained on her finger.
“I need to ask you something,” Rachel said.
Sophie nodded.
“Did Mason ever ask you to sign medical paperwork?”
Sophie’s face changed.
“What kind?”
“Anything giving him permission to speak for you.”
I stood slowly.
“Sophie?”
She stared at Rachel.
“Two days after Ava was born, he brought me a stack from the hospital.”
“What was in it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You signed without reading?”
“I had been awake for almost thirty hours.”
Rachel closed her eyes.
I wanted to scream at her, at Mason, at the entire world.
Instead I asked the only useful question.
“What happened when you signed something like that?”
Rachel looked at Sophie.
“He used it to help convince a judge I couldn’t manage my own affairs.”
Sophie’s face went white.
Her phone rang.
Mason.
She declined it.
A text appeared immediately.
WE NEED TO TALK BEFORE YOUR MOTHER DESTROYS EVERYTHING.
Then another.
ASK HER WHAT HAPPENS TO YOUR TRUST IF THEY DECLARE YOU INCAPABLE.
Sophie handed me the phone.
I read the sentence twice.
Rachel looked over my shoulder.
“What trust?”
May you like
I met her eyes.
And for the first time, Rachel looked truly terrified.
