Chapter 6: The Identity Thief
The detective’s words sat in the room like a bomb waiting to explode.
“I think you need to explain why someone checked into a hotel using your identity.””
I stared at the receipt in his hand.
My name.
My date of birth.
My driver’s license number.
Everything looked real.
But I had never been to that hotel.
“I didn’t do this,” I said.
Detective Collins watched me carefully.
“I didn’t say you did.””
But the way he looked at me told me he had questions.
Everyone did.
I looked at Rebecca.
She was pale, staring at the receipt like it was something from a nightmare.
“Who?”” I asked.
Her lips parted.
“Rebecca,” I said louder.
“Who has been pretending to be me?””
She looked down.
“I don’t know.””
I almost laughed.
“You don’t know?””
“I swear.””
“You have lied to me for years. Why should I believe you now?””
Tears rolled down her cheeks.
“Because someone is trying to destroy us.””
The room went silent.
Then Detective Collins picked up another piece of evidence.
“This was found near your home.””
He placed a photograph on the table.
A man standing outside my house.
My stomach tightened.
The picture was blurry.
But there was something familiar about him.
Something terrifying.
“Who is that?”” I asked.
Rebecca looked at it.
Then covered her mouth.
“No…”
“Who?”” I demanded.
She shook her head.
“It can’t be.””
“Rebecca.””
Her voice cracked.
“That’s Ryan.””
The room stopped.
I stared at her.
“My brother?””
She nodded slowly.
“That’s impossible.””
Ryan had died five years ago.
I had watched them lower his coffin into the ground.
I had stood beside his grave.
I had cried until my body felt empty.
“You said he was dead,” I whispered.
“He is.””
“Then explain that picture.””
Rebecca didn’t answer.
Detective Collins leaned forward.
“Mr. Carter, we need to consider every possibility.””
“No.””
I stood up.
“No, my brother is dead.””
The detective didn’t argue.
But he didn’t look convinced either.
That night, I went back to the house alone.
I needed proof.
Something real.
Something that would tell me I wasn’t losing my mind.
The first place I searched was Ryan’s old storage box in the basement.
My parents had given it to me after his funeral.
I had never opened it.
I couldn’t.
But now I needed answers.
Inside were old clothes, photographs, and a journal.
I flipped through the pages.
Most of it was normal.
Random thoughts.
Plans.
Memories.
Until I reached the final entries.
Three weeks before Ryan died.
I stopped breathing.
I found her.
The woman from years ago.
The one who changed everything.
She has a son.
My son.
But Daniel knows.
He’s threatening her.
I need to tell my brother before it’s too late.
My hands started shaking.
The next page was torn.
The page after that was blank.
Someone had removed something.
A knock came from upstairs.
I froze.
Nobody knew I was home.
I slowly closed the journal.
“Hello?””
No answer.
Another knock.
Harder.
I grabbed the closest object I could find.
A metal flashlight.
I moved toward the stairs.
The front door opened.
I stopped.
A figure stepped inside.
A man.
Tall.
Older.
His face was hidden in the darkness.
Then he spoke.
“You always were terrible at staying away from other people’s secrets.””
The flashlight slipped slightly in my hand.
Because I knew that voice.
I had heard it once before.
At my brother’s funeral.
The man stepped into the light.
May you like
And my entire world collapsed.
“Ryan?””
