Chapter 21: The Woman He Never Forgot

Sunday arrived wrapped in the kind of quiet that made Kingsley Manor seem less like an estate and more like a place where people simply happened to live.

Emma found Ethan in the conservatory. Not with a laptop. Not with a report. Just a cup of coffee and the morning paper folded beside him.

"I'm beginning to think you secretly own every room in this house."

"I pay the mortgage."

"I suppose that helps."

"You slept?"

"Better than you."

"I slept."

"Barely."

He didn't argue. That counted as progress.

Nathan arrived carrying a slim folder. "I apologize for interrupting."

"You rarely do," Ethan said.

"Our investigator checked in."

Emma looked away automatically. Business. She had learned that much. "I'll leave you to it."

"You don't have to."

"It's all right."

She smiled politely and headed toward the gardens. Neither man noticed that she slowed when she reached the open French doors.

Not enough to eavesdrop. Only enough to hear the next sentence.

"The woman has been identified."

Emma's footsteps stopped.

Woman?

"We're certain now."

A pause. "How long have we known?" Ethan asked quietly.

"Not long enough."

Emma felt her stomach tighten. Woman. Known. Identified. She shouldn't listen. She knew that.

Still.

"Our investigator confirmed she attended the gala under a false registration."

"The photographs?"

"Matched."

"And she's been watching from a distance ever since."

Emma's heart sank. The gala. Olivia hadn't attended publicly. Had she? Or, maybe, secretly. Watching Ethan.

"What does she want?" Ethan asked.

"We don't know."

"But she approached me."

"Yes. And disappeared immediately afterward."

Emma's fingers tightened around the edge of the doorway. She remembered the gala. The cameras. The speeches. The evening Ethan had tried, very awkwardly, to make her laugh.

Had Olivia been there? Watching them?

Nathan lowered his voice. "Our investigator believes she was trying to judge your reaction."

Ethan didn't answer immediately.

"She's being careful," he finally said.

Emma closed her eyes. She didn't need to hear any more.

She walked quietly into the gardens before either man realized she'd been nearby.

The autumn roses had finally begun to bloom along the southern terrace. Emma stopped beside them without really seeing them.

Trying to judge your reaction.

She knew Ethan hadn't said Olivia's name.

He hadn't needed to.

Who else could it possibly be?

Nathan waited until the conservatory doors closed. "I don't think Mrs. Kingsley heard enough to understand."

"I hope not."

Nathan glanced at the report. "The investigator is convinced the woman isn't connected to the media."

"No."

"Nor to Olivia Bennett."

"No."

"The resemblance is unfortunate."

Ethan looked at the photograph clipped to the file. A woman leaving the gala through the service entrance, only half her face visible beneath the hood of a raincoat. Enough for facial recognition. Not enough for certainty by the human eye.

"What do we actually know?"

"She worked at St. Andrew's Medical Center six years ago."

Ethan looked up sharply. "The hospital."

"The same hospital."

"Our investigator believes she may have witnessed something the night Emma's mother died."

Silence settled between them.

"If that's true—"

"It changes everything."

Emma spent the afternoon at the nonprofit. Not because she was scheduled. Because she needed somewhere that made sense.

Rachel found her reorganizing shelves that didn't need reorganizing. "You've alphabetized the markers."

"I have."

"You hate alphabetizing."

"I know."

"What happened?"

Emma hesitated, then smiled. "Nothing."

"Liar."

"You always know."

"I usually do." Rachel leaned against the doorway. "Is this about Ethan?"

"I overheard part of a conversation."

"Those are dangerous. They're how misunderstandings begin."

"I think this one already has."

That evening Ethan found Emma in the library. She was reading. Or pretending to.

"You've been quiet today."

"I'm tired."

"Long day?"

"A little."

He studied her for a moment. Normally she would have asked about his meetings, about Nathan, about work.

Tonight she didn't.

He wondered why. She wondered whether she wanted the answer.

Neither asked.

Upstairs, Nathan reviewed the investigator's latest email one final time before locking it away.

The subject line read: GALA WOMAN IDENTIFIED.

The attachment underneath carried a different name entirely.

Dr. Amelia Carter. Former emergency physician, St. Andrew's Medical Center. Present the night Emma Bennett's mother died.

Nathan closed the laptop.

Down the hall, Emma lay awake believing Ethan's past was reaching for Olivia once again.

She had no idea it was reaching for someone else entirely.

And somewhere across the city, Dr. Amelia Carter looked out of her apartment window, unaware that after six years of silence, someone had finally found her.