Chapter 13 - Rebecca
Rebecca Lane had not disappeared.
She had changed her name.
Police located her in Oregon.
She was thirty-eight years old.
Married.
Two children.
And terrified when Detective Ortiz mentioned Daniel.
She agreed to speak with me by video.
The woman who appeared on the screen had dark hair and cautious eyes.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then she said, “He buried you.”
It was not a question.
“Yes.”
Rebecca covered her mouth.
“I knew he would get worse.”
“What did he do to you?”
Her eyes filled.
“He convinced everyone I was unstable.”
The same words.
“He took my keys.”
Same.
“He canceled appointments.”
Same.
“He told my family I forgot conversations.”
Same.
“He moved things around the house.”
Same.
My skin went cold.
Rebecca continued.
“When I tried to leave, Patricia told me no one would believe me.”
“How did you get away?”
“My sister believed me.”
That sentence nearly broke me.
Rebecca’s sister had driven across two states, picked her up while Daniel was at work, and hidden her for months.
Rebecca later discovered that Daniel had opened credit cards in her name.
He had also forged documents giving himself access to an account she inherited from her grandfather.
The amount had been much smaller than mine.
Police investigated.
Rebecca eventually dropped the complaint because Daniel threatened to release fabricated recordings suggesting she was suicidal.
Her family helped her disappear.
She changed her name.
Started over.
“I thought if I vanished from his life, he would leave me alone.”
“Did you divorce?”
Rebecca shook her head.
“I filed.”
“But the paperwork was never finalized.”
Hannah leaned toward the screen.
“Then Daniel’s marriage to Claire may not be legally valid.”
Daniel had built his claim to my trust around being my lawful spouse.
If Rebecca was still legally married to him when he married me, his rights could collapse entirely.
Hannah immediately ordered certified records.
The next morning, she entered my room smiling for the first time in weeks.
“The marriage was never dissolved.”
I stared at her.
“So legally…”
“You may never have been married to him.”
I expected relief.
Instead, grief hit me.
Years of my life suddenly felt counterfeit.
The vows.
The anniversary dinners.
The house.
The future I thought we built.
Even my marriage certificate was part of a lie.
But my daughter was not.
I placed a hand over my stomach.
Nothing Daniel had done could make her unreal.
That afternoon, Sloan surrendered.
He arrived with an attorney and a flash drive.
On it was a video recorded secretly during a meeting with Daniel and Patricia.
Daniel was sitting at a table.
Patricia stood behind him.
Sloan asked what should happen if I woke during transport.
May you like
Daniel answered without hesitation.
“Then she doesn’t arrive.”
