Chapter 12 - THE WOMAN BEFORE ME
Natalie Grant answered Maya’s message at 6:12 the next morning.
Her reply was only seven words.
Do not call me from Elias’s phone.
Maya showed me the screen.
“She thinks we’re him.”
I typed the next message myself.
My name is Ella Bennett.
I married Elias Carter yesterday.
Three dots appeared almost immediately.
Then disappeared.
A minute passed.
Two.
Five.
Finally, Natalie wrote back.
I’m sorry.
That frightened me more than if she had asked what happened.
I sent one more message.
Brenda Morris gave me your name.
This time Natalie called.
Her face appeared on the screen from what looked like a bright kitchen.
She had dark curly hair pulled into a loose knot and tired eyes that sharpened the moment she saw me.
For several seconds, she said nothing.
Then her gaze dropped to my bare left hand.
“You already took the ring off.”
“Yes.”
“That took me three months.”
I did not know what to say.
Natalie looked away from the camera.
“Is Cynthia still involved in everything?”
“Yes.”
A humorless smile crossed her face.
“Of course she is.”
I told Natalie only what Daniel and Hale agreed I could safely disclose.
The apartment.
The forged documents.
The false medical note.
The secret baby.
The hidden camera.
I did not play the entire recording.
I played Cynthia saying we convince everyone she’s unstable.
Natalie closed her eyes.
Her face changed completely.
When she opened them again, they were wet.
“She used that word with me.”
“Unstable?”
“Yes.”
My stomach tightened.
Natalie sat down.
“I met Elias when I was twenty-six.”
She spoke slowly, as if the memories had edges.
“I had just bought a townhouse with money from my grandmother and a loan.”
I looked at Maya.
Another property.
Natalie continued.
“He was charming.”
“Of course he was.”
“He remembered everything I said.”
“He brought coffee to my office.”
“He learned my sister’s birthday.”
“He fixed things at my house without being asked.”
“That sounds like him.”
Natalie laughed softly.
“No.”
“That sounds like the beginning of him.”
The distinction hurt.
She told me Elias moved in after a year.
Cynthia started visiting constantly soon afterward.
At first she rearranged kitchen cabinets.
Then she criticized Natalie’s finances.
Then she began talking about how a married couple should simplify ownership.
“She told me separate property created distrust.”
I felt a cold recognition.
Cynthia had said the same thing when Elias suggested using his account during my apartment closing.
Natalie had refused to add Elias to the townhouse title.
After that, small things started happening.
She misplaced her phone.
Missed appointments.
Lost documents.
Forgot conversations Elias insisted they had already had.
“I thought I was overwhelmed,” she said.
“What about drinks?”
She looked at me.
“What?”
“Did Elias start making you anything at night?”
Natalie became completely still.
“Tea.”
Maya closed her eyes.
I felt sick.
“What kind?”
“I don’t remember.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
My voice came out too fast.
“Did you feel different afterward?”
“Sometimes.”
She looked down.
“Sleepy.”
“Slow.”
“I thought it was because I was exhausted.”
“Did you ever sign documents?”
Natalie’s face drained of color.
“One.”
She stood and disappeared from the camera.
We heard drawers opening.
Then she returned holding a yellowed folder.
“I kept everything after I left.”
She pulled out a photocopy.
The top read RESIDENTIAL CONTRIBUTION AGREEMENT.
My skin prickled.
It was not identical to my property acknowledgment.
But it did the same thing.
The document claimed Elias had made substantial contributions to Natalie’s townhouse and would be entitled to repayment or an ownership interest if the engagement ended.
Natalie’s signature appeared at the bottom.
“Did you sign it knowingly?” I asked.
“I signed a renovation estimate.”
“At least I thought I did.”
She held the page closer to the camera.
“The signature is real.”
“How did you find this?”
“A month before the wedding, my sister came over unexpectedly.”
Natalie swallowed.
“I was asleep at four in the afternoon.”
“She couldn’t wake me easily.”
My chest tightened.
“When I finally woke up, Elias told her I’d taken a sleeping pill.”
“Had you?”
“No.”
“Did your sister believe him?”
“No.”
That single word changed Natalie’s life.
Her sister, Rachel, stayed the night.
She watched Elias closely.
At midnight, she saw him carry a folder from Natalie’s office to his car.
The next morning, Rachel followed him.
Elias drove to a small office building across town.
The directory listed one tenant on the second floor.
Martin Pike Consulting.
I almost dropped the phone.
“Pike?”
Natalie looked at me sharply.
“You know him?”
“He was in my apartment yesterday.”
Natalie went pale.
“That man ruined my life for a year.”
Rachel had photographed Elias entering Pike’s office.
Then she convinced Natalie to search the home computer while Elias was away.
They found draft property documents.
Emails.
A calendar with reminders to document Natalie’s episodes.
And a folder labeled transition.
“What was transition?” I asked.
Natalie looked away.
“Me leaving my own house.”
My throat tightened.
The folder included a plan for Elias to claim reimbursement for renovation expenses.
It included a list of friends who had heard him describe Natalie as forgetful.
It included a proposed statement from Cynthia saying Natalie had become emotionally volatile.
And it included a note advising Elias to begin paying selected household bills from his account so he could later describe himself as financially supporting the property.
The same strategy.
The same language.
The same mother.
The same man.
“What happened?” Maya asked.
Natalie smiled without warmth.
“I ran.”
She packed while Elias was at work.
Her sister helped her change the locks because Elias was not legally living there under a lease and had another registered residence at the time.
Natalie hired an attorney.
Elias threatened to sue.
Pike sent letters.
Cynthia called everyone they knew.
“She told people I was having a breakdown.”
Natalie’s voice trembled now.
“She said I had become paranoid and accused Elias of bizarre things.”
“Did people believe her?”
“Some.”
“Most?”
She hesitated.
“Enough.”
I understood that answer.
You do not need everyone to believe a lie.
You only need enough people to make the truth lonely.
Natalie eventually settled a small financial claim just to end the harassment.
Then she moved across the country.
“I changed careers.”
“I stopped talking to half our friends.”
“I spent two years thinking I had somehow caused all of it.”
Her jaw tightened.
“Then Pike lost his law license.”
“For fraudulent property work?”
“Yes.”
Daniel had told us that.
Natalie nodded.
“I thought that was the end.”
“It wasn’t.”
“No.”
Her face hardened.
“Because Elias never faced consequences.”
That sentence stayed in the room.
She opened another envelope.
“I have something else.”
She pulled out an old phone.
“I haven’t charged this in years.”
“What is it?”
“The phone I used when I was engaged to him.”
She plugged it in.
While we waited, she told us about the final conversation she overheard between Cynthia and Elias.
It happened after Natalie’s lawyer threatened to challenge the property documents.
Cynthia had been furious.
Natalie stood outside the kitchen and heard her say something that made no sense at the time.
“Next time, choose someone quieter.”
My eyes burned.
Boring secretary.
Plain rice.
Quiet.
Predictable.
They had not accidentally underestimated me.
My personality had been part of the selection process.
I was chosen because they thought I would be easy to erase.
The old phone finally turned on.
Natalie scrolled through voicemail archives.
Most were gone.
One remained because she had saved it.
Cynthia’s voice filled the speaker.
“Natalie, you need to stop making accusations before people begin questioning your judgment.”
A pause.
Then, colder.
“Elias tried to help you.”
“If you insist on making this ugly, we have enough documentation to show exactly how unstable you’ve been.”
The message ended.
It was almost the same threat Cynthia had been building for me.
Natalie emailed the file to Daniel.
Then she said, “There’s one person you need to find.”
“Who?”
“The notary Pike used back then.”
“Margaret Dunn?”
Natalie shook her head.
“No.”
“Margaret worked for Pike, but she wasn’t the one who notarized mine.”
“Who did?”
“A woman named Celeste Warren.”
Daniel searched while we remained on the call.
Celeste Warren still held an active notary commission.
She also still lived in the city.
Natalie leaned closer to the screen.
“She called me once after I left Elias.”
“What did she want?”
“She apologized.”
“For what?”
Natalie took a breath.
“For notarizing a document she never saw me sign.”
My heart began pounding.
“Did she say who brought it to her?”
“Yes.”
“Pike?”
“No.”
Natalie looked directly at me.
“Cynthia.”
Then Natalie said something that made Daniel stop typing.
“Celeste told me Cynthia had done it before.”
Before Natalie.
Not once.
More than once.
May you like
And if Celeste was willing to talk now, she might be the first witness who could tell us how far back Cynthia Carter’s system really went.
