Chapter 7: What Carol Remembered
Her name was Carol Brent and she lived forty minutes away in a town called Millhaven.
Ethan found her on LinkedIn.
He stared at her profile photo for a moment — a professional headshot, a woman in her late forties with dark hair and a careful smile — and then he wrote her a message.
He showed it to me before he sent it.
*Carol — this is Ethan.
I know this is unexpected and I understand completely if you don't want to respond.
Something has come to light recently about the end of our relationship and I owe you an explanation, and possibly an apology.
If you're willing to speak, I would be grateful.*
She replied in under an hour.
*I'll talk.
Call me tonight.*
He called at eight.
I sat next to him at the kitchen table.
"I need to ask you something directly," Ethan said.
"The thing you thought I said about you.
To Marcus.
Do you remember exactly what it was?"
A pause on Carol's end.
"You told him I was embarrassing at your cousin's birthday.
That I drank too much and made a scene and you were thinking about ending things."
"I never said that."
"I know that now." Her voice was measured.
Careful.
"I didn't know it then.
Marcus was very specific.
He said you'd called him the morning after the party.
He said you were frustrated and you'd vented."
"I called Marcus that morning.
I talked to him for about ten minutes.
I never said any of that."
A long pause.
"Ethan," Carol said slowly.
"Marcus told me your mother had mentioned it to him first.
That she'd called him to ask if he'd noticed anything off about me at the party.
And that the conversation had gone from there."
The kitchen was very quiet.
"She called Marcus," Ethan said.
"That's what he told me.
At the time I thought it was just her being protective.
A mother worried about her son." A pause.
"I didn't think she was engineering anything.
I just thought she didn't like me."
"She didn't like you."
"No.
She didn't." Carol's voice was even.
"She was always perfectly polite.
But there was something underneath it.
Like she was waiting for me to fail."
Ethan looked at me.
I thought about six bags of clothing.
I thought about a locked room.
I thought about a woman standing in Marlene's backyard in my green coat.
"Carol," I said.
"This is Ethan's wife.
I'm sorry to be part of this conversation."
"Don't be," Carol said.
"I've wondered for years if I had it wrong.
It's strange to find out I had it exactly right."
"Did Marcus ever say anything else?
Anything that seemed like it came from Marlene?"
A pause.
"There was one other thing.
About two weeks before Ethan and I ended, Marcus told me that Ethan had been spending a lot of time with an ex.
That he seemed distracted.
That maybe I should ask him about it." She stopped.
"I asked Ethan.
He had no idea what I was talking about.
We fought about it.
It was one of the last real conversations we had before things fell apart."
"The ex's name," I said.
"Was it Diane?"
Silence.
Then: "Yes.
How did you know that?"
I looked at Ethan.
He had both hands flat on the table.
His face was the color of old paper.
"We know," I said.
"Thank you, Carol.
We're sorry for what happened to you."
"Take care of yourself," Carol said quietly.
"She doesn't give up easily."
The call ended.
Ethan didn't move for a long moment.
"She's been doing this for years," he said.
It wasn't a question.
"Yes."
"She broke up my last relationship to keep Diane in the picture.
And when that didn't work and I met you, she started taking your clothes."
"She was building a case," I said.
"Or a costume.
I'm not sure which."
Ethan stood up.
He walked to the window.
He stood there with his back to me and I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his neck was set.
"I have to call her," he said.
"Not tonight."
He turned.
"She needs to—"
"Not tonight, Ethan." I kept my voice steady.
"Tonight you need to decide what you actually want to say to her.
Because if you call her right now you'll say things you can't take back and she'll use that."
He looked at me for a long moment.
Then something in his shoulders dropped.
"You're right."
"I know."
He almost smiled.
It didn't quite make it.
"What do we do?" he said.
I thought about Carol's voice.
*She doesn't give up easily.*
I thought about Diane's voice.
*She's going to try to make Ethan doubt things.*
I looked at my phone on the table.
"We document everything," I said.
"Carol's account.
Diane's call.
The room.
The photograph.
All of it."
"And then?"
"And then we go back."
Ethan's phone lit up on the table between us.
A text from Marlene.
*I think the four of us should sit down and talk.
May you like
I've already called Diane.
She's agreed to come.*
