Her hands shook so badly she could barely hold the steering wheel.
Jason kept calling.
She ignored every call.
When she reached the apartment building, she sprinted inside.
The elevator felt impossibly slow.
Every second felt like an eternity.
Finally, the doors opened.
Emily ran down the hallway and unlocked the apartment door.
“LILY!”
No answer.
The apartment was dark.
Silent.
Too silent.
Emily’s chest tightened.
Then she heard soft crying from the bedroom.
She rushed inside.
Lily sat curled up on her bed, clutching a teddy bear.
The little girl burst into tears.
“Mommy!”
Emily grabbed her and held her tightly.
“It’s okay. I’m here.”
Lily pointed toward the floor.
“There was a man under my bed.”
Emily slowly knelt and looked underneath.
Nothing.
Just dust and old storage boxes.
Relief flooded through her.
Until she noticed something.
A black envelope.
Hidden in the shadows.
Her name was written on the front.
Emily opened it.
Inside were photographs.
Hundreds of them.
Photos of her.
Photos of Lily.
Photos taken over months.
Someone had been watching them.
At the bottom of the envelope was a handwritten note.
Emily’s blood turned cold.
It read:
“Jason isn’t Lily’s father.”
Footsteps suddenly echoed from the hallway.
Slow.
Heavy.
Someone was inside the apartment.
Emily pulled Lily close.
The bedroom door began to open.
And a familiar voice spoke from the darkness.
“Emily…”
It wasn’t Jason.
It was a man she hadn’t seen in seven years.
The man everyone believed was dead.
Tears filled Emily’s eyes as she whispered:
“No… that’s impossible.”
The man stepped into the light.
And Lily stared at him in shock.
Because she had the exact same eyes.
