Vanessa sat at her vanity, brushing her hair absently as she stared into the mirror. Her husband had left early for work, the way he often did. The kids were both now in school, so she had a lot more time to herself, which truthfully, she enjoyed. The business of life was not something she was fond of. The bedroom window was open, and a small bird sat on a tree branch, chirping a jovial tune.
The moment was almost perfect. However, despite the tranquility of the moment, something was gnawing at her. Ever since that report about the girl escaping from her captor, an unease had settled in her chest, growing each day. And it wasn’t just the story that unsettled her. There were small things, whispers of thoughts she couldn’t shake. The girl looked so familiar. Vanessa had only seen her for a moment on the news, but her face… something about it stirred a memory, like a photograph blurred just out of sight.
She tried to dismiss it. “It has to be a coincidence,” she whispered, almost pleading with herself, her voice trembling in the empty room. She picked up her brush again, this time watching her husband’s reflection in her mind’s eye, lingering on his handsome smile. His voice drifted back to her, repeating the strange, clipped words he’d used the other night. What kids?
Vanessa’s mind drifted to her husband's drawer, locked away in his study. The one she’d never opened. He’d told her it was work-related, something he couldn’t share because of legal confidentiality contracts. She never questioned it. She respected his privacy, trusted him… loved him.
But her hand trembled as she brushed through her hair, each stroke of the brush louder than the last, as though she could drown out the doubt creeping into her mind. She had to know. Just one look, she told herself. Just one glance to ease her mind.
Before she could think it through, she found herself standing at the door to his study. She pressed her ear against it, half-expecting to hear his voice on the other side, while simultaneously knowing he wasn't home. Silence.
In a rush of resolve, she pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room was filled with shadows cast by heavy drapes, its air thick with his cologne. The smell of him brought flutters to her stomach, but they were quelled by the anxiety of being where she knew she shouldn't be.
She crossed the room to the drawer and tugged at it. Locked, as always. Her hand hovered over it. The next drawer down was slightly open, papers spilling over the edge. She lifted one out carefully, unfolding it to reveal rows of numbers, times, and locations. Deliveries. Transactions. Nothing suspicious at all. She picked up another paper, then another, all essentially the same. She felt slightly foolish for doubting him. These were harmless papers.
Folding the papers back again, she placed them back into the drawer. As she did, a glimmer of light caught her eye. A key. It was tucked away at the back of the open drawer. He must have gotten tired of taking it everywhere with him, so carelessly threw it to the back of the second drawer instead.
Her heart thumped hard and her fingers trembled as she picked up the key. She didn't actually think she would find it, but now that she had, could she pretend that she hadn't? If she dwelled on it too long, she would lose her resolve, so she quickly stuffed the key into the lock and twisted it. It clicked open. She pulled the key out and the door slid open smoothly, almost of it's own accord.
More papers. She licked her dry lips and picked the first paper out of the drawer. Similar to the papers in the other drawer, these papers were also transactions. These were shipments, she realized, all from places she didn’t recognize. However, unlike the other papers, these ones had names associated with the transactions. Names, with the age and description of the person. They were all children. Emily, 14. Janice, 13. Rebecca, 12. With each line she read, her chest tightened. Each location linked to a different name, but one name stood out—Madison, 16.
Vanessa dropped the paper to the desk as if it burned her. The image of that girl, the one on the news, flashed before her again. Her name… was Madison. The girl had babysat her children a couple of years back. The uneasy feeling bloomed into fear, gripping her heart like a vice.
She stuffed the paper back into the drawer again and locked it, careful to ensure everything looked exactly as she had found it. She backed away toward the door, her head reeling. Suddenly, she didn’t recognize the man she thought she knew so well. The image of him, the man who brought her breakfast in bed just the day before, the one who held her close at night, now seemed like a stranger. The man she thought she knew had vanished, leaving only a stranger clothed in his shadow.
Read Chapter 3 here
Matthew Norman
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