“I saw her,” she said as soon as he approached. “Your wife. A few months ago.”

His stomach dropped.

“What do you mean?” he asked, crouching in front of her.

“She’s alive,” Emma said simply. “She was hurt. I saw her outside the city. She had bruises. She could barely walk. Another woman was helping her.”

Daniel shook his head slowly.

“That’s impossible. I buried her. I saw everything.”

Emma didn’t argue. She reached into her backpack and handed him a folded photograph.

His hands shook as he opened it.

Two women stood in the picture.

One of them was Margaret.

Pale. Exhausted. But unmistakably her.

The world tilted.

“When was this taken?” he whispered.

“Four months ago,” Emma said. “On the east side.”

Silence settled between them.

“She didn’t fake it,” Emma added softly. “Someone did it to her. They were hurting her.”

Daniel sat down heavily, staring at the photo.

Everything he believed began to fall apart.

“Why would anyone do this?” he asked.

Emma’s expression turned serious.

“Because she found something dangerous.”

He thought of Margaret—curious, relentless, fearless.

It made sense.

Too much sense.

He didn’t waste time.

That same day, he called his private investigator.

“Lucas, I need everything on Margaret Carter’s death,” he said. “Everything.”

Hours later, the truth came crashing in.

“There’s no record,” Lucas said. “No real certificate. The funeral home doesn’t exist.”

Daniel felt something inside him go cold.

“It’s all fake.”

Anger replaced grief.

Before she disappeared, Margaret had been investigating contracts—money that didn’t add up, companies that shouldn’t exist.

And suddenly, one name rose above the rest.

Andrew Blake.

His closest partner.

The man who had arranged everything.

The man who had stood beside him at the funeral.

Daniel returned to the cemetery.

Emma was waiting again.

“You were right,” he said. “It was all a lie.”

She nodded.

“My mom told me.”

He frowned. “Your mom?”

“The woman in the photo,” Emma said quietly. “She’s my mom. She helped your wife.”

Daniel’s breath caught.

Emma continued, her voice small but steady.

“My mom worked at a clinic. People came there when they couldn’t go to hospitals. Your wife showed up hurt, scared. Said someone was trying to kill her. My mom hid her.”

Daniel closed his eyes.

“And then?” he asked.

“A man came looking for her,” Emma said. “After that… my mom disappeared.”

The silence between them grew heavy.

Margaret hadn’t died.

She had been hunted.