by Julia Derek
My hands flew up to my face and I gasped out loud. “Oh, my God! How do you know that?”
“Rolf sent out an email to inform everyone about it this morning. I just checked mine. I think she did it yesterday.”
I shook my head slowly, like I was in deep shock. “I can’t believe it. This is so horrible…”
“I know, it’s awful. She was such a nice person.”
“Yes, she sure was. So nice.”
Laurie exhaled, her chest heaving. “I have to go. I have a client. I just wanted to let you know. I know you were friendly with her.”
I nodded. “Go, go. Thanks for letting me know.”
I walked deeper into the lounge, nodding to trainers and maintenance staff that were either sitting or standing there. It appeared lots of people knew what Emma had done already and the mood sure was drastically different from when Ariel had been murdered. There was a sense of sorrow in the long room, filling it like an invisible fog. No one was laughing and the ones who were talking did so in hushed voices.
It was only when I had switched into my trainer uniform that I thought about how incredibly quickly Rolf had found out about Emma. I shrugged. Well, maybe he was watching the news this morning too. The anchor did mention her by name.
That same feeling of somberness that had filled the trainers’ lounge lingered throughout a big part of the club, similar to the time when member Alicia Chang had been found raped and murdered. The news of Emma’s suicide must have traveled like wildfire during July in Arizona. Most of my clients that morning noticed that something was different, so I explained what had happened, which only served to bring the mood down further. By the fourth client I considered lying, but thought better of it—the woman I was training would find out soon enough anyway, and then she might get annoyed with me for not telling her the truth.
By the time I was done with my morning clients, the air inside the club had become so heavy with gloom that I needed to get out for a little while, see the sun. I had three hours to kill before my next client and I felt sleepy. Maybe if I took a walk in Central Park I would feel better, more alert. I headed for the park.
But instead of feeling better, the walk seemed to make me sleepier. Checking the time, I saw that I still had two and half hours left until I had to return to the club, so I turned around and walked home. Might as well try to take a nap, I thought.
Before I took the elevator up to my apartment, I checked my mail. I didn’t always do this as I hardly ever got any mail besides mass advertising and bills, and I wasn’t sure what prompted me to do so today. I was glad that I did, though.
I was glad because it was time for me to begin to accept and then embrace the truth.
A large manila envelope was folded and placed in my mailbox. Frowning, I removed it from the tight space together with a couple of brochures and a take-out menu. Throwing the junk mail in the nearby recycling area, I unfolded the manila envelope.
It was addressed to Jamie Richards, the name and address below it written in big, black, block letters.
It took me a few seconds before it dawned on me that it was me the writer had been referring to. I was Jamie Richards here in New York, not Gabi Longoria. How could I forget so easily after all this time?
I shook my head to make the brain freeze completely disappear. My eyes went up to the corner of the envelope to check for a return address. When I didn’t see one, I flipped it over to check the back. No return address there either.
Who is this from?
I hurried up to my apartment, entered and soon found a pen in my living room that I used to open the closed envelope. There were five sheets of paper full of handwriting inside. It looked like a letter. Pulling out all five sheets, I began to read the beginning of this letter meant for me, the writing neat and small.
Chapter 2
Dear Jamie,
When you read this, I will be dead. I hope you will understand why I felt I had no other choice but to take my own life after you have finished this letter. Please don’t feel guilty for not saving me. There really was nothing you could do, trust me. They are much too powerful. I know you’re the kind of person who will feel terrible when you hear that I slit my wrists. The moment I met you I knew you were good and one of a kind. Don’t feel bad. I deserved to die for what I did anyway. I made up my mind the following morning after I had slept on it. I was gonna die soon enough anyway. Janine and the others would see to that. But I preferred doing it my own way. Don’t worry, it wasn’t really painful. Nothing can be as painful as knowing what I know and how I kept helping them. How selfish I was.
I don’t know where to begin to make the most sense for you. I apologize in advance if this letter is all over the place, but I’m having a hard time focusing right now I’m hurting so much. I never knew guilt could cause so much pain and confusion. It all feels like such a mess.
I didn’t tell you the entire truth when you came to my place, only a small part of it. I did carry two children, one for me and one for Janine and Marissa and I did have a miscarriage. One of their doctors came to my house afterward and confirmed that I had lost both fetuses, exactly like I told you. That’s when I knew it was over for me. Even if Janine asked me to give it another try, I wouldn’t have been able to do it. I wouldn’t have been able to handle all the guilt. It got bigger and bigger every day. Not that she would ask me again.
I did train her last year and that’s when she asked me to be a surrogate for her and Marissa’s baby. At first I said no, but she made me an offer that was too good to refuse. Not only would I be allowed to carry my own child at the same time as theirs, but they would pay for everything as well as give me five million dollars to go through with it. Five million dollars! With that kind of money, I would never again have to work and I would become a mother. I always wanted to become a mother. This was my chance. And I would be rich!
At first I was shocked they wanted to pay me so much money. But when Janine pulled out a confidentiality contract that I needed to sign in which I had to promise I would never disclose that I had carried a child for her and Marissa, it made sense. She wanted to keep her affair with her mistress a secret of course and felt that if I was well paid, I would have no reason to blab about it. So I said yes. I thought my life would change forever and only for the better if I agreed to participate in the “endeavor” as Janine kept referring to it.
It took months before they found the right sperm donor. I thought it was strange that he had to be so incredibly perfect. Smart, gorgeous, athletic, super healthy. Tall. No one seemed good enough for Janine. But then I thought I was being ungrateful. After all, if I had this great sperm donor, my own child would be tall, athletic and a lot better-looking than me, its mother, who is not very attractive. My child would have a great future. Janine told me they had done things to both embryos to ensure they were as perfect as possible. Genetic engineering, she called it. I wasn’t sure what that meant exactly and she couldn’t really explain either, but she kept assuring me that I would be happy when I saw my child. Something about this genetic engineering made me uneasy, but again I told myself that I was being stupid and ungrateful.
The two embryos were put into my body right around the time you came to work for Nikkei. In the beginning everything was great, the pregnancy progressed well. Janine was nice to me. I emailed Marissa and told her our little endeavor was going well and that I was so happy.
But then one day I started to feel how the fetuses were not behaving normally. It was like they were fighting each other. I told the doctors I was working with to check what was wrong, but they claimed it was all fine. But the fighting in my stomach got worse, so I told Janine that we should end the pregnancy because something was definitely wrong. Like I told you, she got furious that I even dared suggesting it.
Things got worse from then on. I was in her apartment one afternoon and discovered horrible stuff written on her computer. After I had read the long string of emails she was exchanging with someone at The Adler Gro
up, I was under the impression that she and a bunch of other politicians here in America and in Europe together with Adler were in the process of creating a master race! And they were apparently using animal genes to make this happen. All that she and this other person had written sounded totally crazy, like they were both some kind of nazis. Stuff about eliminating substandard people or using them for experiments. She was discussing a grading system how to determine the quality of every person in the world. Everyone would be graded one through five. The ones would be killed instantly and the twos would be used to develop drugs and for other experiments. The threes would be used as house slaves and for manual labor. The fours would be allowed to continue to live with the master race as long as they allowed themselves to be upgraded with plastic surgery, drugs and rigorous training. The fours would only be allowed to procreate if their offspring was improved via genetic engineering in the embryo stage. Humans who were deemed to be fives were already so perfect they would go on living as usual since they were already perfect.
As you can imagine, I could hardly believe what I was reading.
Janine walked in on me just as I finished reading and was livid when she realized that I must have read what she and that other person had written. I thought she was going to hit me she was so mad, but then she calmed down and sat down next to me. She asked me how much of the emails I had read. I was too scared not to tell her the truth, so I said that I had read everything. Then I asked her if I was going to die after I had given birth to her child. Because according to the grading system they had been discussing, I didn’t think I could be more than a one or a two.
She patted my arm and told me not to take that grading system so literally. There would be plenty of exceptions made and I would be one of them. I would be treated as well as all the upgraded fours and the already perfect fives. My own child would be the half sibling to her child, so how could I not be well treated? She put an arm around me and told me we would be family now. I had nothing to worry about. She was never the same after that, ice cold even when she was smiling at me. I tried to think positive, that I really did have nothing to worry about. But it was hard, so hard, and some days I was so depressed that I didn’t know what to do with myself. I contemplated suicide often then as well, and the only thing that kept me going was the thought of my own child. I couldn’t kill my own child. I was probably just imagining the fighting in my stomach. Or if there was fighting, surely it was my child only trying to defend itself against the other child. That child was evil and mine was good. I told myself that Janine and her friends would never succeed with their worldview, it was just too crazy. How would they ever be able to pull something like that off?
Janine herself saw how depressed I was and calmed me down enough that I was able to keep going, even felt better for a while. I actually almost convinced myself for a few weeks that I had only imagined reading all those emails, that it was just a bad dream! I guess it was a coping mechanism to be in such denial. But then I heard Janine talking to someone over the phone about the grading system, and the truth came crashing down on me again. It wasn’t just my crazy, hormone-filled brain that had made up all the horror I’d seen in Janine’s computer.
And then the following morning I had the miscarriage. Deep inside I knew it was over for me then, even though I didn’t want to admit it to myself. Not even when you came over and guilt should have made me admit it to you. But my guilt wasn’t as strong as my will to live. Oh, God, I’m such a selfish, cowardly person! All I could think about was ways I could survive. I really didn’t want to die yet. I kept telling myself that they could just put in two new embryos, and I’d start a new pregnancy. I’d claim that I had slipped in my bathroom and that was why I’d had the miscarriage. I’d be more careful the second time around if only they let me have another try. I was even willing to give them back all the money if only I could try again.
But when I woke up the next morning I knew that nothing I would say or do would ever work. I had already told the doctor who came to examine me after the miscarriage that I had no idea what had caused it. Janine would know that I was only making up the fall so that she would give me another chance.
And since I didn’t think she would give me another chance, she had no reason to keep me alive. She would do what she did to Ariel. I’m convinced the maintenance guy never killed Ariel, but that Janine and her friends are behind her death. See, Ariel was a spy for them. I’m not sure exactly what she was looking for, but I knew she was working for them. I saw her name mentioned in the emails and it sounded like she was digging up information for them. She must have done something to piss them off to disappear as suddenly as she did. Paco had no reason to kill her. They must have paid him off the way they were paying me to carry Janine’s child. I’m now beginning to wonder if the children I was carrying were really part of some experiment. It would explain why I they were acting so strange in my stomach. I will never know the truth about that.
Anyway, so now you know the whole truth. I wish I had confided in you sooner, as soon as I found out what they were up to. You would have known what we could do to stop them. You’re such a strong and capable person. I was too much of a coward to do anything to go against Janine and now I’ll be paying the price for that. I know I can trust you because you’re not like them. You’re a good person. You’ll do the right thing. Please stop them from doing what they’re planning. Tell everyone. Find a way to get inside Janine’s emails and I’m sure you’ll find out all they’re planning to do. I’m not crazy, I’m telling you the truth. See for yourself in her emails. Whatever it takes to stop them, do it. Please. I don’t have the strength to try and will be dead soon anyway, either by my own hands or by theirs. I’m not stupid. They have no use for me any longer and I know too much.
But they don’t know that you know. So the future is in your hands now, Jamie. I know you’ll save us. You have what it takes to do it, so do it.
Love, Emma.
I had to pinch myself a couple of times to be sure I was awake and not just experiencing a very vivid dream. The sun shining into my living room further confirmed that I was wide awake. I put the sheets full of tiny words aside and leaned back against my couch, exhausted all of a sudden.
So Ian has been telling me the truth all along then.
Even as that thought filled my head, I vainly kept searching for reasons there was something off with this long, rambling letter that Emma had written and mailed me. Maybe Ian had actually written it in an attempt to make me accept his conspiracy theories once and for all. Maybe he had made her write it before killing her and made it look like a suicide.
I chuckled to myself. Give it up, Gabi. There is no way he’d know even half of the details Emma has written here. How would he have known she was pregnant? It never got to the point that it showed. Even if he’d happened to walk by that day in the cafeteria when she’d spoken loudly about it, he still didn’t know that she had actually been carrying two children. And unless Emma had told him about how she felt the fetuses were fighting each other, he couldn’t have known about that, either. How a doctor had come after the miscarriage and confirmed it for Emma. In order to make her write the letter, he would first have to have known about all the stuff only I knew existed.
No, this letter had been written by Emma and her alone.
So the future is in your hands now, Jamie. I know you’ll save us. You have what it takes to do it, so do it.
I felt like crying, I felt so heavy with responsibility at the thought of those last words in the letter, but no tears came. What made Emma think I was so capable? It must have been only wishful thinking on her part, a last desperate move. If she had known I was really a cop, I’m sure she’d have pointed that out in the letter.
I looked for my phone. Might as well tell Ian that I had received this letter from Emma and that I know believed him. I would also tell him that I would help him. I really had no choice after learning all this. I had to try to stop them. Oh, God.
; I found my phone and texted Ian, telling him I needed to see him ASAP. Almost instantly he texted me back, telling me he’d be home in an hour and to come over to his place then.
Checking the time, I saw that it was nearly three o’clock. I decided that I would need the entire evening to discuss with Ian what Emma had told me, so I texted my three evening clients and told them that I was sick and therefore couldn’t make our sessions.
An hour later, I was standing outside Ian’s brownstone, pressing his buzzer. He didn’t answer, so I kept pressing and pressing.
“Don’t you think I would have let you in if I was at home?” a familiar voice behind me said after some time. I swiveled around and spotted Ian coming toward me. His new, much neater and shorter hair had me thrown for a few seconds; it made him look quite different. “I ran later than I’d thought. Are you okay?”
“Not really,” I replied and raised my hand up, waving Emma’s letter to him. “I got a very disturbing letter from Emma. It was definitely suicide.”
The lighthearted expression on Ian’s face immediately transformed into one much more serious. He came up next to me and opened the door to his building. “Let’s go up to my place.”
Soon we were sitting on the vintage brown leather sofa in his apartment and I handed him Emma’s pages to read for himself. It didn’t take long before he was done with them, being a fast reader like myself.
He raised his chameleon eyes that had gone a bottle green to meet mine. “I reckon you no longer doubt that I’ve been telling you the truth all along.”
“Yes, I do believe you now,” I confirmed. “I’m sorry I ever doubted you.”
His lips curled into the tiniest of smiles. “No worries. But it feels almost unnecessary for me to play you the recording device now.”
I frowned at him. “What do you mean? What recording device?”