There was another pause. Then Andrew's voice dropped, almost measured, as though he was weighing every word.
"To be more specific. Do you know who Lucy Turner is?"
Victoria shot upright. Water dripped off her trembling body and pattered onto the tiled floor. The towel slipped loosely around her frame. Her entire body went cold. Lucy Turner. That name hadn't crossed her ears in five years. Hearing it now from her husband's mouth sent a chill crawling down her spine.
Her lips quivered. Her voice trembled despite her best attempt at composure. "Andrew. Where did you hear that name?"
He sighed on the other end of the line. "They said you'd react like this. Why didn't you tell me? I'm so sorry you've been carrying that burden alone." His voice softened with pity, laced with misplaced understanding. "I already knew about your one sister. But I had no idea there was another one. I'm guessing she grew up with you both at the orphanage? I've never met her or even heard her name before so I'm assuming you lost her some time ago. And the fact that you've been taking care of her kids on top of raising ours? Victoria that's incredibly kind of you."
Her mind reeled. Sister? Kids? What was he even talking about? She'd covered her tracks meticulously. Who had fed him this false narrative?
Her grip tightened on the phone. "Andrew… you said 'they.' Who's 'they'?"
"Oh." His tone turned casual, almost careless. "I got a message from an unknown number. Said I should remind you about your sister's burial anniversary. They even mentioned you'd given the kids my number so they could reach you through me. I just followed their instructions. Don't be mad at how I asked. It was just how they phrased it."
Victoria exhaled shakily. A wave of relief washed over her but it was brief and fleeting. An unknown number. Anonymous. Her thoughts raced. Who was playing this game? Was it blackmail? A trap? And why would they reach out to Andrew first instead of coming directly to her?
She paced the bathroom with water dripping from her skin and the phone pressed tight against her ear. Andrew's voice floated back, faint and concerned. "Victoria? You still there?"
She snapped back to reality and forced calm into her voice. "Yeah I'm fine. Just spaced out a bit. So the number that sent you the message—"
"It was an unknown number," Andrew cut her off. "No trace. If there had been I would've tracked it already."
Victoria froze in place. Andrew's obsession with her had always been his weakness, his shield, and his leash. If he said the number couldn't be traced then either he was lying or someone had deliberately outplayed even him.
Her chest tightened. This was bad. Really bad.
"Alright," he said, his voice clipped and forcing a calm that wasn't there. "That's all I needed to tell you. I'm a bit busy now so I'll get going. Love you."
"Love you too," Victoria replied and the line went dead.
She set the phone down with trembling hands. The words still echoed in her mind but before she could even begin to process them the sharp sound of the doorbell cut through the silence. Not once but in a frantic series of chimes, one after the other. Her heart jumped into her throat. She climbed out of the tub and wrapped her robe tightly around her body then hurried downstairs, her bare feet whispering against the polished floorboards.
When she yanked open the door a man in a postman's uniform stood there holding an envelope. Behind him the front gate was wide open. Something that should have been impossible.
Victoria's voice came sharp and cold. "How did you get in here? The gate has a passcode. All mail is supposed to be delivered to the box outside."
The postman looked unfazed and adjusted his cap. "Sorry ma'am. Is this the residence of Victoria Wilson? Also known as Lucy Turner?"
Her heart nearly stopped. Lucy Turner. Again. She scanned the street quickly for anyone watching then forced a smile. "Yes I'm Victoria Wilson. How can I help you?"
"I have a letter for you ma'am," he said, extending the envelope with practiced ease. "It was specifically assigned to Victoria Wilson."
She took it with unsteady hands. Her eyes flicked down to the front of the envelope and she read the words scrawled across it.
To Lucy Turner, or Victoria Wilson.
Her stomach knotted. "Who sent this?" she asked quickly, her voice too tight and too sharp to hide the panic behind it. "And how did you get the gate code?"
The man only shrugged. "It was posted for morning delivery with specific instructions. The sender gave me the code and said it was urgent that it reach you directly. I got a nice tip for it too so no harm done." He tipped his hat politely. "Have a good day ma'am."
Before she could ask anything else he turned and walked off. Victoria shut the door with a trembling hand and pressed her back against it as if she were trying to hold the whole world out. The envelope felt heavy in her hands. She tore it open with shaking fingers, pulled the letter out, and began to read it.
[Hey Lucy,]
[ Hope you didn't miss me too much. Daddy's been busy so I haven't checked up on you in a while. Guess you're having fun with that street thug of yours huh? Even after getting married you never change. Always doing whatever you want and thinking no one's watching.
But I've been watching you Lucy. Hope you haven't forgotten me. I've got videos and photos you definitely don't want the police seeing. You know exactly what I'm talking about so don't try to play saint on this one. Took me a while to gather them but it was worth every second.
I'm sure your little girls don't know what kind of person their mother really is do they? So what are you this year? Thirty seven? Funny how being a mother of two hasn't changed your body one bit.
I won't beat around the bush. This is blackmail. But not for money. This is for revenge. Don't play smart with me. I know your house routine. I know your husband must have called you by now. And the Lucy I know could never marry Andrew for money alone. You're bigger than that.
But I can show him everything you've done behind his back. Can you imagine how heartbroken he'll be? Heartless as always. You even dragged the kids into this. And the way you treat his son? I've got it all recorded.
Andrew might act all lovey dovey with you but he's no fool. He'll take my message as a hint. I didn't even hide my number. Bet he told you it was unknown right? Figures.
If you get that street thug involved I'll make your life a living hell. Don't test me. By evening I'll send another letter. Have fifty thousand dollars ready to keep this quiet. That's nothing compared to what I've got on you. Don't waste my time and don't try anything funny.
I'm watching.]
Victoria's breath came in ragged gasps. The letter crumpled in her grip as her hands shook violently. Who the hell is this? Panic and rage twisted together in her chest. They knew her past. Her age. Her routines. Even Andrew.
Could it be one of his friends? Someone close to the family?
She staggered to the couch and collapsed, pressing her temples hard. She needed to calm down and think. They knew too much. Her real name. Her alias. Her affairs. This wasn't some random stalker. Whoever this was had been watching her for years.
She stood up suddenly and started pacing the living room in tight circles. She was so lost in thought that she didn't hear the creak of the stairs until Emily's voice cut in.
"Mom you okay? You look troubled."
Victoria snapped out of her spiral and masked her face with a tight smile. "Oh it's nothing. Just spaced out. Heading to school now?"
Emily frowned with suspicion in her eyes. "Did Andrew find out about you and Jeremy?"
Victoria's heart jumped into her throat but she forced a laugh and waved the thought away. "Come on now. Don't you trust your mom? I'm not that careless."
Emily studied her a moment longer then shrugged. "If you say so. I'm gonna be late today. I'll be out with friends after school so don't bother making dinner for me." She slung her bag over her shoulder and headed out the door. But not without one last searching glance at her mother.
Alone again Victoria stormed upstairs with her mind racing. She needed answers. Someone she could talk to. Someone who knew her before Andrew. Before she buried Lucy Turner. There was only one name.
She grabbed her phone and dialed.
The line rang twice before a familiar voice answered. "Yo Vic what's up? Been a while since you called me without it being business. Miss me?"
She bit back the urge to scream. "Cut the bullshit Jeremy. Did you rat me out?"
Silence on the other end. Then Jeremy's voice came back, suddenly serious. "Why the hell would I do that? What are you even talking about?"
"I think someone knows me as Lucy," she hissed.
His tone hardened instantly. The casual humor was gone. "What? That was over five years ago. I thought the contract ended that name."
"It did," she snapped. "But this person knows everything. My age. My life. They're blackmailing me. They sent a letter straight to my house."
"Whoa whoa. Hold up. Who sent it?"
"No name," she said through clenched teeth. "Just a letter. I can't explain it all over the phone. You need to come here."
Jeremy sighed. "Today was supposed to be my rest day but fine. I'll head over." He paused. "He's not around right? Since you couldn't wait until tomorrow?"
"Not for that," she snapped. "Come as the gardener. I'm suspicious of someone but I need to figure this out first. And bring some weed. I need to clear my head."
Jeremy chuckled darkly. "Yes ma'am. Anything else?"
"No. Nothing else."
She ended the call and tossed the phone onto the bed. Her heart was still pounding and her chest was heavy with dread. She started pacing the room again trying to organize her thoughts but every path she went down led to the same place. Exposure.
She didn't know how long she paced for but eventually the exhaustion caught up with her. She sank onto the mattress with the letter still clutched in one trembling hand.
Her mind kept spinning until sleep finally claimed her.