Chapter 2

The next morning, I flew back to New York, anxiety gnawing at me.

I drove straight to Parkside Academy, its stone façade imposing and exclusive.

"I'm Sarah Thompson, Emily Thompson's mother," I told the receptionist. "I need to see my daughter and speak with someone about her enrollment."

The receptionist gave me a polite, practiced smile.

"Of course, Ms. Thompson. Let me get Ms. Peterson for you. She's the head of the lower school."

Ms. Peterson arrived, a woman with a severe haircut and an even more severe expression.

"Mrs. Thompson?" she asked, her eyes scanning me critically.

"Yes. I received a strange call yesterday about my daughter, Emily, supposedly being enrolled in a public school. I just want to verify everything is in order here."

I showed her my driver's license, Emily's birth certificate, copies of the Parkside enrollment contract and my payment confirmations.

Ms. Peterson glanced at them dismissively.

"One moment," she said, picking up her desk phone.

She murmured into the receiver, her eyes fixed on me.

"Yes, she's here now... claims to be Emily's mother... Okay, I understand."

She hung up, her face hardening.

"Ma'am, I don't know what game you're playing, but Emily Thompson is perfectly fine, and her mother is on her way."

"Her mother? I am her mother," I said, my voice rising despite my efforts to stay calm.

"According to our records, and the person I just spoke to, you are not," Ms. Peterson stated flatly. "In fact, they warned me someone might try something like this. Security!"

Two burly guards appeared at her office door.

"This woman is an imposter. She's trying to abduct Emily Thompson."

"Abduct my own daughter?" I was incredulous. "This is insane! I have proof!"

I waved the documents again, but Ms. Peterson just shook her head.

"Those can be easily forged. Emily's real mother is on her way. She's very distressed."

The door burst open, and a woman I vaguely recognized rushed in, sobbing hysterically.

Jessica "Jessie" Evans. Kevin's high school sweetheart. I'd met her once, years ago.

"My baby! Is my Emily okay? That woman! Get her away from my daughter!" Jessie shrieked, pointing a trembling finger at me.

My mind struggled to process the scene. Jessie? Here? Claiming to be Emily's mother?

Then Kevin walked in.

My husband.

He rushed to Jessie's side, putting a comforting arm around her.

He looked at me, his face a mask of concern, but not for me.

"Sarah? What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice loud enough for everyone to hear. "Honey," he said to Jessie, "it's okay. This is... this is a disturbed woman I know. She's been having some problems."

He turned to Ms. Peterson.

"I'm so sorry for this disturbance, Ms. Peterson. This is Sarah. She's... unwell. She sometimes gets confused. Jessie is Emily's mother. This condo, our daughter Emily, they belong to us."

He gestured between himself and Jessie.

The world tilted.

He was publicly disavowing me, calling me mentally unstable.

Ms. Peterson nodded sympathetically at Kevin. "Security, please escort Ms. Thompson off the premises. And perhaps call someone who can help her."

"Kevin! What is the meaning of this?" I shouted, my voice cracking.

He wouldn't meet my eyes. "Sarah, please. Don't make a scene. You need help."

The guards took my arms. I didn't resist, too stunned to fight.

This was a nightmare. A carefully constructed, unbelievable nightmare.