Chapter 3 - THE LAST PERSON TO SEE GRACE ALIVEEthan felt the living room shift beneath him.
"You were with Grace that night."
Vanessa nodded.
"Where?"
"Malibu."
"Where in Malibu?"
"Near Point Dume."
Ethan stared.
Grace's wrecked car had been found twenty-three miles north.
"Why?"
"She called me."
"You told me you were home that night."
"I lied."
"Obviously."
Vanessa wiped her eyes.
Ethan hated that he still knew when she was truly crying.
This appeared real.
That didn't mean it was innocent.
"What did Grace want?"
"To talk."
"About?"
Vanessa looked away.
"About you."
Ethan laughed bitterly.
"Of course."
"No. Not like that."
"What does that mean?"
"She knew I had feelings for you."
Silence.
Ethan's stomach turned.
"Before she disappeared?"
"Yes."
"Did I know?"
"No."
"Did anything happen between us?"
"No."
That was true.
At least as far as Ethan knew.
Vanessa had never flirted openly with him until years after Grace's presumed death.
But feelings could exist privately.
"How did Grace know?"
"I told her."
"Why?"
"We were friends once."
Ethan stared.
"You just said she hated you."
"By then she did."
Vanessa sat on the sofa.
The afternoon light seemed too bright for this conversation.
"We met freshman year at UCLA. We were close for years."
"And you never mentioned her."
"Because by the time you and I became friends, Grace and I hadn't spoken in almost four years."
"What happened?"
Vanessa hesitated.
"She thought I betrayed her."
"Did you?"
"Yes."
The honesty surprised him.
"How?"
Vanessa looked toward the old photograph of Grace on the bookshelf.
"I told someone something she trusted me with."
"What?"
"That's Grace's story."
Ethan stepped closer.
"Grace isn't here to tell it."
Vanessa flinched.
"Apparently she is."
The sentence hit both of them.
Ethan leaned against the marble table.
"Tell me about the night."
Vanessa took a long breath.
"Grace called around nine. She sounded upset. She asked me to meet her."
"Why you?"
"Because she wanted answers."
"About my feelings?"
"About mine."
Ethan felt sick.
"What happened?"
"We met near a turnout above the coast."
"Did you argue?"
"Yes."
"About me?"
"Mostly."
"What did she say?"
Vanessa gave a sad laugh.
"That I had been waiting for her marriage to fail."
"Was she right?"
Vanessa didn't answer.
Ethan's jaw tightened.
"Was she?"
"Partly."
He looked away.
For six years, he had remembered Grace's final weeks as a marriage under stress.
Now another woman had been standing somewhere outside it.
Watching.
Waiting.
"What happened after the argument?"
"Grace left."
"Driving north."
"Yes."
"And you?"
"I followed."
Ethan stared.
"Why?"
"She was upset."
"Or you were."
"Both."
"How far?"
Vanessa rubbed her palms together.
"I don't know. Maybe ten miles."
"Did you see the crash?"
"No."
"Did you hit her car?"
Vanessa's head snapped up.
"No!"
The answer came immediately.
Ethan studied her.
"Did you touch her car at all?"
"No."
"Did you force her off the road?"
"No."
"Then what happened?"
"I lost sight of her."
Ethan's voice became flat.
"You expect me to believe that?"
"It's true."
"You followed my wife during the final hour anyone saw her alive and then spent six years pretending you'd never met her."
"I was scared."
"Of what?"
"Of looking guilty!"
"You looked guilty because you lied!"
Vanessa stood.
"You have no idea what the police would've done. Grace and I fought. I followed her. Her car went over a cliff. I panicked."
Ethan stared.
"So you said nothing."
"Yes."
"While I searched."
Vanessa looked down.
"I watched helicopters fly over that coast for weeks."
Her shoulders shook.
"I wanted to tell you."
"But you didn't."
"No."
"You watched Sophie cry for her mother."
"I know."
"You came into our house."
"I know."
"You became my friend."
"I know."
"You married me."
Vanessa whispered:
"I loved you."
Ethan felt disgusted.
"Don't."
She closed her eyes.
He went back to the phone.
"If you didn't know what happened to Grace, how did you find her?"
Vanessa hesitated.
"Last year I received an email."
"From?"
"A rehabilitation center."
"Why would they email you?"
"Because Grace gave them my name."
Ethan stared.
"Not mine?"
"No."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"Where is the center?"
Vanessa remained silent.
Ethan stepped closer.
"You're still protecting something."
"I'm protecting you."
He laughed.
"No. We're done with that sentence."
"Grace isn't the person you remember."
"Neither are you."
Vanessa flinched.
He held up the phone.
"Where is she?"
Vanessa finally answered.
"Santa Barbara."
Ethan's heartbeat jumped.
Less than two hours away.
"Facility name."
"Bellora Neurorehabilitation Center."
The three letters in the photograph.
...ORA.
Ethan immediately searched the name.
Private neurological rehabilitation.
Residential care.
Traumatic brain injuries.
Memory disorders.
His hands began shaking.
"How long has she been there?"
Vanessa looked terrified.
"Almost six years."
Ethan stopped breathing.
"Six years?"
"She was transferred there after being found."
"When?"
Vanessa said nothing.
"WHEN?"
"Three days after the accident."
Ethan staggered backward.
Three days.
While he was organizing search boats.
While Sophie's grandparents flew in.
While the Coast Guard searched the Pacific.
Grace had been alive.
Less than one hundred miles away.
"Why wasn't I contacted?"
Vanessa whispered:
"Because nobody knew who she was."
"Until you."
"Yes."
"When did you learn?"
"Eleven months ago."
Ethan looked at the photographs again.
"Then why didn't you tell me?"
Vanessa began crying.
"Because when Grace remembered your name..."
She stopped.
Ethan waited.
"What?"
"She didn't remember you as her husband."
Ethan's throat tightened.
"What did she remember me as?"
May you like
Vanessa looked at him.
"Someone she was afraid of."
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