Chapter 36 - THE SECOND BRACELET
Emily did not chase Lucas through the station.
That surprised her.
Six months earlier, she would have run first and called everyone later.
Instead she photographed the train ticket, sent it to Rachel, called Marcus, and waited under the diner awning while rain darkened the road.
Matthew texted again.
Everything okay?
Emily looked at the empty booth through the window.
No.
She typed that.
Then added:
But I’m not doing anything stupid for at least ten minutes.
His reply came immediately.
Historic.
She laughed despite herself.
Rachel called three minutes later.
“The Montreal train left twelve minutes ago.”
“Can we find Lucas?”
“We can try.”
“Can we find the woman in the photo?”
“Maybe.”
Emily looked at the image again.
The woman’s face was turned away.
She wore a dark coat and held a cane.
Only the silver bracelet was clear.
“Could it be Margaret?” Rachel asked.
“No. Wrong hand. Margaret has a scar across her left wrist.”
“You noticed that?”
“She hides it badly.”
Rachel was quiet.
“Emily, you do not have to follow this.”
“I know.”
That sentence felt different now.
Not permission.
Choice.
“I want to.”
“Then we do it properly.”
Emily smiled faintly.
“Define properly.”
“Passport, hotel, legal notice to Canadian counsel, no climbing through windows.”
“No promises on windows.”
“Emily.”
“Kidding.”
“Your jokes are why I age.”
The next morning, Emily flew to Montreal with Rachel and one security officer she chose herself.
Not Marcus.
Not Matthew.
Matthew offered the jet.
Emily said no.
He said okay.
She took a commercial flight and sat beside a toddler who kicked her seat for ninety minutes.
It was strangely comforting.
Power did not get the child moved.
At Montreal Central Station, Rachel obtained security footage through local counsel.
Lucas had arrived that morning.
He met the woman from the photograph near Track Seven.
They spoke for six minutes.
Then Lucas left alone.
The woman walked to a taxi stand.
The taxi receipt led to a small assisted-living residence near Mount Royal.
Emily stood outside the brick building and looked at Rachel.
“Still properly?”
“Mostly.”
Inside, a receptionist called upstairs.
A few minutes later, an elderly woman entered the sitting room using a cane.
The silver bracelet circled her wrist.
Emily stopped breathing.
The woman looked at Emily’s face and began crying before either of them spoke.
“Oh,” she whispered.
Emily’s throat tightened.
“Who are you?”
The woman pressed one hand to her mouth.
“My name is Claire Bouchard.”
“Did you know my mother?”
Claire nodded.
“I hid her.”
Emily sat slowly.
“Lucas sent me a photograph of you.”
Claire looked confused.
“Lucas?”
“He was here this morning.”
“No.”
Emily frowned.
“We saw him on camera.”
Claire shook her head.
“That man called himself Daniel.”
Rachel and Emily exchanged a look.
“Did he give you anything?” Rachel asked.
Claire reached into the pocket of her cardigan.
A small envelope.
“He asked me to give this to Emily if she came.”
Emily opened it.
Lucas’s handwriting filled one side of a card.
I owed Evelyn one last thing: proof that someone remembered her as a person, not evidence.
Emily looked up.
Claire was watching her.
“Why do you have the same bracelet?”
Claire touched it gently.
“Evelyn gave it to me.”
“She had two?”
“She bought two in a street market when she first came to Montreal.”
Claire smiled through tears.
“She said matching jewelry was corny and then bought it anyway.”
That sounded more real than every polished memory Emily had been given.
“What was she like here?”
Claire’s smile faded.
“Terrified.”
Emily waited.
“She burned toast every morning.”
Emily laughed softly.
“She hated being told what to do but followed every safety rule for the first month.”
“Then stopped?”
“Completely.”
Emily smiled despite herself.
Claire continued.
“She talked about you every day.”
Emily looked down.
“Why didn’t she come home?”
Claire’s eyes filled.
“She tried twice.”
“The first time?”
“Arthur stopped her.”
Emily went still.
“What?”
Claire looked uncomfortable.
“He said Graham had people near your school.”
Emily’s chest tightened.
“And the second time?”
Claire looked toward the window.
“Evelyn stopped herself.”
“Why?”
“Because she saw Diane with you.”
Emily stared.
Claire continued.
“There was a photograph Arthur sent. You were asleep on Diane’s lap at a hospital.”
Emily remembered the childhood pneumonia.
She had been seven.
“Evelyn looked at that picture for hours.”
“What did she say?”
Claire’s voice softened.
“She said, ‘My daughter is loved by someone who is making terrible choices.’”
Emily closed her eyes.
Diane again.
Never one thing.
Claire reached into a cloth bag and removed a narrow notebook.
“This belonged to Evelyn.”
Emily’s hands shook when she took it.
“She told me to destroy it if anyone from Ambrose came looking.”
“You kept it.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Claire smiled sadly.
“I made a selfish choice.”
Emily looked at her.
Claire shrugged.
“I wanted something of my friend.”
No heroic explanation.
Emily appreciated that.
The notebook contained recipes, addresses, grocery lists, and frightened fragments of thought.
Not a master plan.
Not a ledger.
On one page Evelyn had written:
Arthur thinks keeping Emily ignorant keeps her safe. I think ignorance just means she will someday be surprised by the cage.
Emily swallowed hard.
The last written page was dated three days before Evelyn died.
It ended in the middle of a sentence.
If I make it back, the first thing I will tell Emily is—
Nothing after it.
The line simply stopped.
Emily stared at the unfinished sentence.
Claire whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Emily closed the notebook.
“No.”
She wiped her eyes.
“I think maybe unfinished is more honest.”
Then Rachel’s phone rang.
She answered.
Her face changed.
Emily looked at her.
“What?”
Rachel lowered the phone.
“Lucas was arrested at the border.”
“For what?”
Rachel hesitated.
“He had one of Ambrose’s old passports.”
Emily frowned.
“Why?”
May you like
Rachel looked at the note Lucas had left.
“Because his legal name may not be Lucas Ambrose.”
