Chapter 1 - THE GHOST IN THE SHED
The wrench in the young woman’s hand shook violently, but she didn’t lower it. The little girl—Thomas’s daughter—clung to her leg, staring at me as if I were a phantom.
"Dead?" I whispered, my voice sounding like crushed glass. "Thomas told you I was dead?"
The woman swallowed hard, her eyes darting to the heavy wooden door behind me. "He said you died in a car wreck. Fifteen years ago. He said he kept the house empty because it hurt too much to change it." She took a ragged breath. "Who are you?"
"I’m his wife. The one who supposedly died." I took a step forward, and she raised the wrench higher. "Put that down. I'm not going to hurt you. What is your name?"
"Elise," she stammered. "And this is Lily. Thomas said we had to stay in the workshop. He told us the property was tied up in a bitter legal dispute with his terrible family, and if anyone saw us, they’d take Lily away. He brought us groceries, clothes... he was our whole world."
My stomach violently rebelled. Thomas hadn't just cheated; he had cultivated a hostage situation built on a foundation of pathological lies. He played the grieving widower to her, and the dependable, stoic husband to me.
"How long have you been in this room, Elise?" I asked, dreading the answer.
"Six years," she whispered. "Since Lily was born."
I felt the ground tilt beneath my feet. Six years. Six years of him eating my pot roasts, sleeping in my bed, holding my hand at church, while this woman and child lived in a glorified storage container fifty yards from my kitchen window.
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Suddenly, my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Margaret, my sister-in-law. The same sister-in-law who had practically shoved me into selling the farm the moment Thomas was in the ground.
I looked at Elise. "Lock this door. Don't make a sound. I'll be back."
