Chapter 3 - The Woman in the Photograph
The photograph had been taken on the day I buried my husband.
My stomach dropped.
I knew because I recognized the black dress.
The cemetery.
The gray sky.
The expression on my face.
I remembered that day perfectly.
I had been too numb to cry.
Leo stared at the screen.
“Where was this taken?”
“Outside the cemetery,” I said.
The security chief looked at me.
“Do you know him?”
“No.”
Leo looked at me.
“You’re certain?”
“Yes.”
The man outside the gates disappeared before anyone could reach him.
But the message was clear.
Whoever was watching us knew me long before Leo did.
The next morning, a private investigator arrived.
Her name was Mara Bennett.
She spent three hours reviewing everything.
By lunch, she had uncovered something.
“Your husband had a business partner,” she said.
I frowned.
“Daniel had several.”
“Not according to the records.”
She placed a file in front of me.
“I'm talking about a man named Adrian Cross.”
I felt sick.
“That name.”
“You know him?”
“Yes.”
My voice shook.
“He offered my husband an investment opportunity.”
Mara nodded.
“Six months before Daniel died.”
Leo sat across from us.
“What happened?”
“Daniel refused.”
“Why?”
“Because Adrian wanted access to his company’s medical distribution contracts.”
Leo's expression hardened.
“What kind of medical contracts?”
“Pediatric pharmaceutical supplies.”
Mara looked at Leo.
“Specifically neonatal feeding equipment.”
Silence.
I felt cold.
“Why would that matter?”
Mara opened another file.
“Because Amelia Mercer’s medical records include a dispute involving a neonatal nutrition supplier.”
Leo stood.
“What dispute?”
“The hospital claimed a batch of infant formula had been contaminated.”
He went pale.
“That's impossible.”
“Three infants were affected.”
“Isla?”
“She was hospitalized because of severe feeding intolerance.”
Leo looked at me.
I understood.
The baby hadn't simply been refusing bottles.
Someone may have caused her illness.
That possibility changed everything.
“Do you think someone intentionally made my daughter sick?” Leo asked.
Mara hesitated.
“I think you should consider the possibility.”
Leo's hands tightened.
He turned away.
I walked into the nursery.
Isla was sleeping.
I touched her cheek.
A thought hit me.
“What if whoever wanted Isla sick also wanted my family?”
Everyone looked at me.
“My husband handled medical distribution contracts. Maybe he found something.”
Mara nodded slowly.
“That would explain why someone followed you.”
Leo looked at me.
“Did Daniel ever keep anything from you?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“A metal box.”
“Where?”
“Our old apartment.”
We went there that afternoon.
Two security vehicles followed us.
The apartment looked smaller than I remembered.
Empty.
Cold.
I found the box behind a loose panel in the closet.
Inside was a flash drive.
A photograph.
And a note.
Do not trust the Mercers.
My heart stopped.
Leo took the note.
His expression became unreadable.
“What does this mean?”
“I don't know.”
Mara plugged in the drive.
There were files.
Hospital invoices.
Supply chains.
Shipping records.
Names.
Then one document made me gasp.
Amelia Mercer.
I looked at Leo.
“This is about your wife.”
He read the file.
His face changed.
The document described a payment made to a private investigator three weeks before Amelia died.
Reason: surveillance.
“Why was someone surveilling Amelia?”
Mara opened another file.
“Because Amelia suspected someone was trying to interfere with Isla’s care.”
Leo stared.
“You knew?”
I shook my head.
“She never told me.”
He sat down heavily.
“She told me someone was threatening her.”
My heart stopped.
“Who?”
“I thought she meant the press.”
“She didn't.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“She meant Adrian Cross.”
The room went silent.
Leo told us Amelia had confronted Adrian one week before her death.
She had discovered that someone had been purchasing medical data from newborn intensive care units.
Baby identities.
Medical histories.
Feeding records.
Families with vulnerable children.
The data was being sold.
For what, no one knew.
Then Amelia died.
And the investigation disappeared.
I looked at the files.
“We need to take this to the police.”
Leo nodded.
“We will.”
But before we could leave, my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
A man's voice said:
“You should not have opened Daniel's box.”
My blood froze.
“How do you know?”
“Because we planted it where we knew you would find it.”
The line went dead.
Mara looked at me.
“What did he say?”
I told her.
Leo took the phone.
His face was terrifying.
“He wants us to find something.”
Mara nodded.
“A trap.”
“Yes.”
But Leo shook his head.
“Maybe.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think there's another reason.”
He looked at me.
“They want Nora.”
My heart stopped.
“Why me?”
He stared at the photograph.
“The picture at the gate.”
He zoomed in.
In the background, barely visible, was the hospital where Daniel had taken our children for medical evaluation.
I remembered that visit.
I remembered seeing a woman in a gray coat.
Someone who had asked me my name.
At the time, I thought she was a nurse.
Now I wasn't sure.
Leo called the hospital.
The woman had never worked there.
And that was when I realized the truth.
Someone had been collecting information about me for months.
Not because of Leo.
May you like
Not because of Amelia.
Because of my children.
