CHAPTER 2: The Dead Woman in the Drawing
Emma couldn't breathe.
Her fingers tightened around the crayon drawing until the paper crinkled.
The smiling woman with long dark hair.
The tiny star-shaped necklace.
The green eyes.
Every detail was unmistakable.
The woman in Lily's drawing was her sister.
Sophia Carter.
The sister who had supposedly died eight years ago.
“Miss Emma?”
Lily's voice brought her back.
Emma looked up, her face pale.
Daniel frowned immediately.
“Are you alright?”
She swallowed hard.
Her hands trembled so badly that she almost dropped the drawing.
Then she signed slowly.
Where did you get this picture?
Daniel looked confused.
Lily smiled.
“I drew it.”
Emma stared at the little girl.
Then she pointed to the woman in the drawing.
Who is this?
Lily's smile grew even wider.
“My mommy.”
The café suddenly felt ice-cold.
“No,” Emma whispered, though no sound came out.
Daniel saw her lips move.
“What is it?”
Emma looked at him, then back at the picture.
Her heart was pounding so hard she thought everyone could hear it.
She signed carefully.
Your wife… what was her name?
Daniel's expression changed.
The question seemed harmless, but something in Emma's face made him uneasy.
He answered slowly.
“Her name was Sophia.”
Emma's hand flew to her mouth.
Daniel's eyes widened.
“How do you know that name?”
Tears filled her eyes.
Impossible.
This was impossible.
Because her sister's full name was—
Sophia Carter.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
The rain beat against the windows.
Coffee machines hissed.
People laughed at distant tables.
Yet the small corner near the window felt like another world.
Emma slowly reached into her purse.
Her fingers shook as she opened her wallet.
Inside was an old photograph.
Faded.
Worn.
Carried every day for eight years.
She slid it across the table.
Daniel picked it up.
His face drained of color.
In the picture, a young woman stood on a beach, smiling at the camera.
She wore a star-shaped necklace.
And beside her stood a teenage girl.
Emma.
Daniel's hand started shaking.
“No…”
Emma pointed at the woman in the picture.
Tears streamed down her face.
My sister.
Silence.
Daniel looked at the photograph.
Then at Emma.
Then back again.
It was the same woman.
The same eyes.
The same smile.
The same necklace.
The same face.
Lily leaned forward.
“Daddy?”
Daniel looked as though he had seen a ghost.
“You're… her sister?”
Emma nodded.
The color disappeared from his face.
“That can't be possible.”
She frowned.
Why?
Daniel stared at her for a long moment.
Then he whispered something that made her blood run cold.
“Because Sophia died six years ago.”
Emma's eyes widened.
Six years?
Not eight?
Her sister had disappeared eight years ago.
The police searched for months.
Then a body had been found after a ferry accident.
The authorities said the body belonged to Sophia.
Their parents believed it.
The funeral was held.
The grave was built.
Everything ended.
Yet this man…
This stranger…
Was saying Sophia had been alive two years after that.
Daniel reached into his wallet with shaking hands.
He pulled out another photograph.
This one was newer.
Sophia stood beside him holding a baby.
Lily.
The date in the corner was six years ago.
Emma stared at it.
Then at him.
Then back again.
Her entire world tilted.
“No…” she signed.
“No… no…”
Daniel looked just as horrified.
“She was my wife.”
Emma burst into tears.
Because if this photograph was real…
then the woman buried in her hometown wasn't Sophia.
Which meant one thing.
Her sister had never died.
For a long time, neither of them spoke.
Finally, Daniel looked up.
“Who told you she died?”
Emma wiped her tears.
The police.
“What police?”
She named the small coastal town where they grew up.
Daniel's expression darkened.
He looked disturbed.
Very disturbed.
Then he said something unexpected.
“I never met Sophia's family.”
Emma blinked.
What?
“She said she didn't have any.”
The words hit her like a slap.
“No family?”
Impossible.
Sophia loved her family.
Especially Emma.
When Emma lost her hearing as a child, Sophia had learned sign language just to communicate with her.
She would never disappear willingly.
Never.
Then another memory suddenly surfaced.
The last day she saw her sister.
Sophia had seemed frightened.
She kept checking the windows.
She kept locking the doors.
And before leaving, she had hugged Emma tightly and signed:
If anything happens, don't trust them.
At the time, Emma thought she was talking about an ex-boyfriend.
Now…
She wasn't so sure.
Daniel suddenly leaned forward.
“What happened to her?”
Emma looked into his eyes.
And for the first time, she saw something besides shock.
Fear.
Real fear.
She signed slowly.
Tell me how she died.
Daniel swallowed.
“There was a fire.”
“A fire?”
“Our house burned down six years ago.”
Emma's blood turned cold.
Daniel looked toward Lily.
The little girl was quietly coloring another picture, unaware that her world was changing.
His voice became almost a whisper.
“I found Sophia inside.”
Emma covered her mouth.
“She didn't survive.”
The café seemed to spin.
A fire.
A funeral.
Another death.
Another body.
Another grave.
None of it made sense.
Then Daniel said the words that changed everything.
“I never saw her face.”
Emma froze.
“What?”
“The fire was too severe.”
A chill crawled down her spine.
“The police identified her through documents and personal belongings.”
The same way they had identified the body eight years ago.
Emma and Daniel stared at each other.
The same horrifying realization dawned on both of them.
Two bodies.
Two deaths.
Neither one properly identified.
Then whose graves had they been visiting?
Suddenly Daniel's phone rang.
He glanced at the screen.
Unknown Number.
Normally, he would ignore it.
But something made him answer.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Then a woman's voice.
Soft.
Shaking.
Terrified.
“Daniel…”
The coffee cup slipped from his hand and shattered on the floor.
His face turned white.
Emma watched in confusion.
Then she saw tears filling his eyes.
The woman spoke again.
“Please don't hang up.”
Daniel's lips trembled.
Because he knew that voice.
He would know it anywhere.
It was impossible.
It couldn't be.
Yet it was.
May you like
The voice on the phone belonged to his dead wife.
“Sophia?”
