Chapter 5 - The Voice on the Other End
I forgot how to breathe.
The phone pressed against my ear.
The room watched me, but their faces blurred into shapes.
The man on the line said my name again.
“Emily Rose?”
Not Emily Bennett.
Not Miss Bennett.
Emily Rose.
The name I had never heard in a father’s voice.
My lips moved before sound came out.
“Samuel?”
A breath broke on the other end.
“Yes.”
Julia covered her mouth.
Professor Hughes whispered something I couldn’t hear.
My body shook so violently that Dr. Monroe pulled out the chair behind me, but I could not sit.
“Where are you?” I asked.
A pause.
Too long.
“I can’t tell you yet.”
Hope turned sharp.
“Why?”
“Because Richard is not finished.”
The sound of his voice was older than the man in the photograph. Rougher. Like someone who had swallowed smoke for years. But beneath it, there was something gentle, something almost familiar.
I hated that I wanted to trust it.
I hated that I already did.
I put the phone on speaker.
“Everyone in this room can hear you,” I said. “Dean Hughes is here. Campus police. My professor. Julia.”
Silence.
Then a broken whisper.
“Jules?”
Julia stepped forward, tears streaming.
“Sam?”
He exhaled.
For one brief second, the room held something sacred.
A brother and sister separated by lies, reunited by a phone speaker.
“Where have you been?” Julia asked.
“Running,” he said.
“From Richard?”
“From what Richard built.”
I gripped the edge of the table.
“What does that mean?”
Samuel went quiet.
When he spoke again, his voice had changed. Less emotional. More urgent.
“Emily, the flash drive you used today. Is it with you?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Do not let anyone take it. But listen carefully. That drive is only part of the evidence.”
My pulse quickened.
“There’s more?”
“There is a second archive.”
Richard had spent four years trying to find the flash drive.
Because he thought it was the key.
But it wasn’t.
It was only a door.
Samuel continued.
“Before I confronted Richard, I made copies of everything. Financial records. Patent files. Insurance documents. A signed statement from Patricia. Evidence that the car crash was staged.”
My mother had said the death report was a lie.
Now Samuel was confirming it.
“Where is the archive?” I asked.
“I hid it where Richard would never look.”
Julia frowned.
“Sam, stop being cryptic.”
A faint, sad laugh came through the speaker.
“I missed you too, Jules.”
Her face crumpled.
Then his tone hardened again.
“Emily, did your mother say anything today?”
I swallowed.
“She said you didn’t die.”
“Anything else?”
“That Richard knows where you are.”
The line went silent.
“Samuel?”
His voice dropped.
“He doesn’t know where I am now. But he knows where I was.”
A chill crawled over my skin.
“What did he do to you?”
No answer.
“What did he do?” I repeated.
Samuel breathed slowly.
“After the crash, I woke up in a private clinic outside the city. I had head trauma, broken ribs, and no identification. A doctor told me my wife had signed authorization for treatment under a different name.”
Julia’s face went white.
“Patricia signed?”
“I believed she had betrayed me,” Samuel said. “Richard made sure of that. When I tried to leave, two men stopped me. They said I owed money. They said police were looking for me for embezzlement. They said if I went near Patricia or the baby, both of you would disappear.”
My stomach twisted.
“So you stayed away.”
“I tried not to.”
His voice cracked.
“God help me, Emily, I tried. I went to the house once when you were three. Richard met me outside with photographs of you at preschool. He said if I came back, there would be an accident. I thought staying away kept you alive.”
I closed my eyes.
All my life, I had imagined my real father as a coward because Richard needed me to believe he was one.
But the truth was worse.
He had stayed away because he thought it protected me.
And Richard had raised me under the same roof anyway.
Not as a daughter.
As leverage.
Professor Hughes stepped closer to the phone.
“Mr. Ward, are you willing to give a statement to law enforcement?”
“Yes,” Samuel said. “But not until Emily is safe.”
I almost laughed.
Safe.
I had never been safe.
Not really.
My phone buzzed again.
This time it was a text from an unknown number.
One image.
A photo of me standing at the podium, taken less than an hour ago.
Under it, a message:
You should have stayed quiet.
I showed it to the officer.
His expression tightened.
Samuel heard the movement.
“What happened?”
I read the message aloud.
His voice changed instantly.
“Leave campus now.”
Professor Hughes said, “Campus police are here.”
“No,” Samuel snapped. “You don’t understand. Richard does not threaten unless he has already moved something into place.”
The officer straightened.
“What are you suggesting?”
“I’m suggesting Richard Bennett has survived twenty-two years because people underestimate what he pays for.”
Outside the window, sirens wailed.
Not campus sirens.
Police.
Then someone shouted in the hallway.
The conference room door burst open.
The same staff member from earlier stood there, breathless.
“Dean Hughes, there’s a fire alarm in the west building. They’re evacuating everyone.”
Professor Hughes frowned.
“There is no scheduled drill.”
The campus officer’s radio crackled.
“Possible smoke reported near records office. All units respond.”
Records office.
The blood drained from Professor Hughes’s face.
My academic records.
Ethan’s thesis file.
The complaint documents.
Everything the university had not yet backed up.
Samuel’s voice thundered through the speaker.
“Get Emily out of there.”
The officer moved toward the door.
Then my phone buzzed again.
Another text.
This one contained no photo.
Only four words.
The first fire is free.
Julia whispered, “Oh my God.”
The officer drew himself up.
“Miss Bennett, come with me.”
I grabbed the flash drive and Samuel’s photo.
Professor Hughes gathered the folders.
Dr. Monroe took my laptop.
We moved into the hallway together.
Students and staff were evacuating in confused waves. Alarms screamed. Red lights flashed against white walls. Somewhere far away, someone coughed.
I looked toward the west building.
Smoke curled behind the glass doors.
A figure stood outside near the parking lot.
Gray suit.
Polished shoes.
Richard.
He was supposed to be with security.
He was not.
He saw me through the crowd.
Even from a distance, I could see him smile.
Then he lifted his phone to his ear.
My phone rang.
I answered without thinking.
His voice slid into my ear like poison.
“Did you enjoy your little performance?”
I did not speak.
“You have no idea what you’ve done.”
Behind me, Samuel shouted from the speaker, “Emily, hang up.”
Richard laughed softly.
“Is that him? Is Samuel listening?”
My heart pounded.
Richard’s voice lowered.
“Tell him I kept my promise.”
Samuel went silent.
I gripped the phone.
“What promise?”
May you like
Richard’s smile widened across the courtyard.
“That if he ever came back for you, I would bury him properly this time.”
