Chapter 103

Chapter 103
WRITER'S POV
Jack threw on his clothes and kissed Vera softly on the forehead before slipping out of their bedroom. She murmured something in her sleep behind him, but he didn’t stop or look back. He had no idea if she would wake up right after, and frankly, he couldn't afford to wait, he needed to check on the boys before heading out.
It was still early. The living room looked like a storm had passed through: empty drink bottles rolling under the coffee table, food containers and wrappers littering every corner, wine glasses left on window sills, and the remains of a night full of people and noise. So much for a new home. Jack ignored it all and headed for the front door.
He stepped outside into the cold. Light raindrops pattered on the carport’s canopy. He pulled his hoodie over his head and looked around. He wondered if Hannah’s family, or Nathan and Jessica, had left last night or crashed in the guest rooms.
Still, none of them were on his mind. Only one person was: Reverend Israel, Monica's father. Jack had visited the man twice since Monica's funeral. He hoped this third visit wouldn't feel out of place. He just needed answers. The truth.
The sky was still dark, and daylight had barely touched the edge of the horizon. Jack clicked his car remote, and the headlights lit up the driveway. He walked quickly through the drizzle and slid into the driver’s seat.
Seven minutes later, he sat in the waiting area of the confessional inside the church. His hands rested on his lap as he tried not to listen in on the woman inside. Her voice was soft but intense, and it sounded like she was pouring her heart out.
He waited. One minute. Two. It felt longer. He knew interrupting her wasn’t an option, it wasn’t the kind of thing you do when someone is trying to make peace with God.
When she finally emerged, her eyes were red and her head hung low. She didn’t look at him. She walked right past, lost in her own guilt. It wasn’t a normal confession. She had clearly done something that still haunted her.
Jack didn’t wait a second longer. He pushed open the door separating the confessional and stepped into the dim, quiet booth. He knelt, leaned in, and prepared to speak through the small opening.
Maybe this was the wrong time. Maybe he should’ve waited. But no, he needed answers. He couldn’t keep going in circles, making up theories, chasing shadows.
“In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen,” came Reverend Israel’s voice from the other side, calm and expecting a regular confession.
Jack cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Sir Israel. I’m not here for that.”
There was silence. Then Jack continued. “I needed to speak with you urgently. It couldn’t wait.”
“You seem to be the last penitent. We can talk somewhere more suitable,” the Reverend offered, a bit surprised.
“I appreciate that. But this is a quick question, I swear. I need to ask about Monica. My ex-wife.”
Jack heard a shift. A creaking chair. A rustle of fabric. He imagined Reverend Israel pausing, maybe standing in shock.
“Monica? What could you possibly need to know about her now?”
Jack took a deep breath. “There’s something you need to know. Please don’t take it the wrong way… but did Monica have a twin sister?”
There was a pause.
“What… Wait… How—”
That was all the answer Jack needed. The surprise in the man’s voice was enough. The woman he had seen recently wasn't Monica. She was her twin. The story behind their separation would have to come later, but at least now he had confirmation.
“For a while now, someone’s been saying Monica is still alive,” Jack explained. “At first, I thought it was insane. But then I found something, an old photo of teenage twin girls. Identical.”
Reverend Israel’s voice lowered. “Maureen left when they were in school. They had a terrible fight. Monica never talked about it, no matter how much we asked. We searched for Maureen, but it was like she vanished. Her mother couldn’t believe she’d just left. She thought something worse had happened. I was afraid Monica had done something… but she swore on her deathbed she hadn’t.”
“It must’ve been a serious fight,” Jack said quietly. He stood up slowly. “I’ll do my best to find out what happened. And why Maureen is back in Downtown without contacting you.”
“Wait, son,” Israel said gently, his voice closer now, like he was leaning toward the partition. “Thank you.”
Jack paused, nodded even though the Reverend couldn’t see him, and stepped out.
Driving home, Jack's mind was on fire. Monica never told him she had a sister, an identical twin. And her family never spoke of it either. It was like Maureen never existed. He remembered how devastated they had all been after Monica died. He’d tried to be there for them, sent Timothy to stay with them a few times. He had no reason to suspect there was more to the story.
As he entered the estate, something outside his house caught his eye. A young boy was standing by a black SUV, bent over the window. Jack slowed the car.
The boy handed something through the driver’s window, he couldn’t tell what it was. The driver wore a face cap, hiding most of his features. But the boy… Jack was sure it was Malone. As soon as the exchange was done, the boy ran back toward the house through the back.
A cold wave rushed down Jack’s spine.
What had just happened?
He stopped the car for a second. Two choices: go inside and confront Malone… or reverse and follow the SUV.
Either way, something bad was going on and he wasn't going to let it slide.