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047 She's Next, Unless
Fecha de publicación:
2026-08-16 00:02:23
Último capítulo
I Buried My Fiancé, Married His Brother 047 She's Next, Unless
Sebastian I don't remember deciding to move. One moment I was staring at that photograph of Jane through her own bedroom window, and the next I had Gabriel by the collar, slammed back against the wall hard enough to rattle the loose floorboard still hanging open beside us. "Who sent this." "I don't know." Gabriel's voice had gone thin, genuinely afraid now, all his earlier composure stripped away. "I told you, everything comes through drops, messages left in places, I've never seen a face." "That's my daughter, Gabriel. Someone photographed my daughter through her window and left a threat with your things, and you're telling me you don't know who." "I'm telling you the truth." His hands came up, not fighting, just steadying himself against the wall. "Sebastian, please. I know I don't deserve your trust. I know everything I've done makes me the last person you should believe right now. But I would never let anyone hurt Jane. Whatever else is true about me, that isn't." Christabel
I Buried My Fiancé, Married His Brother 046 Face To Face
Christabel I don't remember the drive. One moment Sophie was reading that message out loud, and the next we were standing outside the same nondescript building from weeks before, security fanned out around the perimeter, Sebastian's hand locked so tightly around mine it almost hurt. "You don't have to come up," he said, though his voice lacked any real conviction behind the offer. "Yes I do." He didn't argue further. We climbed the same narrow stairwell together, and this time, when we reached the second floor landing, the door at the end of the hall stood fully open, light spilling out into the dim corridor, and a figure stood silhouetted against it, unhurried, waiting, like he'd known exactly when we'd arrive. Gabriel looked older than I remembered. Thinner, a beard he'd never worn before, but the smile that spread across his face when he saw us was exactly, horribly the same, easy and warm, like nothing at all had happened in the three weeks since I'd buried him. "Christabel.
I Buried My Fiancé, Married His Brother 045 What Sophie Actually Found
Sebastian We were at the office within twenty minutes, Sophie waiting for us in the conference room with a specialist I didn't recognize, an older man with reading glasses pushed up into gray hair, three screens arranged in front of him showing the same grainy photograph blown up in increasing detail. "Mr. Vettel, Mrs. Vettel." The specialist nodded at both of us ,his expression carefully neutral in the way of someone used to delivering difficult news. "I've spent the last two hours running comparative analysis on the wrist mark visible in this photograph against the medical file Ms. Laurent provided." "And," I said, unable to keep the tension out of my voice. "The mark is consistent with the tattoo documented in that file. Same design, same approximate placement, same aging pattern given the photograph's timestamp relative to when the original medical record was created." He turned one of the screens toward us, the enhanced image now sharp enough to make out an unmistakable patte
I Buried My Fiancé, Married His Brother 044 A Coat I Recognized
Christabel I woke to Sebastian sitting bolt upright beside me, phone still in his hand, the room lit only by the pale glow of the screen. "Sebastian?" "Someone sent this an hour ago." His voice was rough, unsteady, and he passed the phone to me without another word, the photograph filling the screen, grainy and distant, a figure half hidden by a parked car outside the courthouse. I studied it carefully, my heart picking up speed even before I fully understood why. "Who is that." "I don't know." His voice cracked slightly on the words, and I could hear how much that admission cost him. "I don't know, but something about the coat, the way he's standing, it's familiar in a way I can't fully explain. I keep telling myself I'm imagining it. That grief is doing something to my memory I don't have control over." I looked closer, trying to see whatever he saw, but the image was too distant, too obscured, offering nothing solid enough to hold onto. "Maybe we should send it to Sophie. See
I Buried My Fiancé, Married His Brother 043 A Witness Who Doesn't Exist
Sebastian "Empty for six months," I repeated, staring at the message like rereading it might change what it said. "That's not possible. Fournier read a sworn statement from her this morning." "A sworn statement doesn't require the person to actually live anywhere real, sir," Sophie said through the phone, her voice tight with the same disbelief I felt. "It requires a notarized signature and a witness. I've already requested the notarization records. If this checks out the way I think it will, we may be looking at a fabricated identity entirely." "Fabricated how? The property records show her name on a deed." "A deed is just paperwork, sir. If someone had access to enough resources, and enough patience, they could construct an entire paper identity, a lease, a purchased property, employment history, all of it, without a single real person ever actually living any part of that life." Christabel leaned forward, her face pale. "So Margaux Rousseau might not be a real person at all. J
I Buried My Fiancé, Married His Brother 042 The Hearing
Christabel Neither of us slept. We sat up most of the night trying to guess what Beatrix's message could mean, and by the time the sun rose over Paris, gray and indifferent, I'd rehearsed a dozen worst case scenarios and settled on none of them. The courtroom was smaller than I expected, wood paneled, quiet, more like a private meeting room than the dramatic setting I'd pictured. Judge Fournier sat at the head of the table, composed, unreadable, and Beatrix arrived exactly on time, dressed in charcoal gray, her lawyer beside her, an expression on her face I couldn't fully read. "Before we begin," Beatrix said, once the formalities had been dispensed with, "I'd like to submit something into the record. Something that arrived at my home last night, addressed specifically to me, that I believe changes the nature of this entire proceeding." Sebastian's hand tightened around mine under the table. Beatrix's lawyer slid a folder across the table, and Fournier opened it slowly, his expre
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