AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Her death was her escape. She was too cowardly to face the consequences of her actions. How anyone could be so malevolent is beyond my comprehension. I was the one to convince officers she fell asleep at the wheel. I was an idiot. It was right in front of me; she wasn’t wearing her seatbelt, and there were no skid marks leading to the crash. This was all part of her plan. It makes me nauseous to think I painted her in such an innocent light; the funeral where I worked so hard to make sure she was remembered—I was glorifying a murderer.
I had no idea that a murder case was unfolding when I left Canada. Thankfully, the police here have been able to prove I was also a victim. My existence was a cover-up for her. She needed a body to play Elizabeth, and it was an unfortunate coincidence I had a striking resemblance to her daughter. Wrong place, wrong time to be found by Julianne.
When the studio staff hand over my credentials, I’m ushered into makeup and hair. It feels like so much makeup is being added to my face, but when I see the result, I’m thankful it looks natural and not gaudy like I was expecting. My parents and Jack are being spackled with bronzer so our fair skin doesn’t look washed out under the camera lights. In other words,you all look like corpses. Minnesota winters are brutal, we look like mole people seeing the light for the first time.
Walking back into the studio, I notice my therapist and lawyer are seated along the side of the stage—a pretend living room set up on a raised floor surrounded by soft lighting. The producer tells us the seating order she wants us in when Charlotte Stanard walks in. Someone from the wardrobe department is trying to get her attention, but she beelines for me and gives me a big, sincere hug.
“I am so honored that you have chosen to trust us with your story. If anything becomes too much, just let us know, and we’ll take a break. Do you need anything? Water? Snack?”
“Water would be great. Thanks.”
My throat feels dry as a cob now that my nerves have settled in. I’m glad my family and team of supportive people are here, but I wish Lonan was too.
* * *
I bring the water bottle to my mouth with shaky hands and take one last swig. After we all are mic’d up and sound checks have been performed, the interview begins.
“Bridget, can I call you Bridget?”
“Yeah, Bridget’s fine.” I laugh nervously.
“How are you doing these days? What have you been up to since your return?”
“Um, I’m busy. Lots of therapy.” More nervous laughter. “I’ve been spending most of my time with family and getting to know old friends. It’s been a lot to get used to.”
“I can imagine. Your abduction is unique. What is it like to be one of the longest-held captives on record?”
“It’s strange. Mostly because I didn’t know I was abducted. I had always been told it was a type of adoption. That I’d been sent away.”
“Do you remember the abduction now that you’re home?”
“No, I’ve been diagnosed with dissociative memory loss. My brain just hid all the memories of the event. I couldn’t handle the trauma, so they were tucked away to keep me safe.”
“We have to ask, were you abused in any way? Were there times you didn’t feel safe with Julianne?”
“No. I didn’t encounter any physical abuse, as far as I know. If anything, I was ignored. Perhaps neglected. I don’t think she wanted Elizabeth or me.”
My mind wanders into the many ways she showed that she tolerated me but never wanted to engage with me. I was just... there. Like a piece of furniture she couldn’t get rid of.
“Why do you think she abducted you if she didn’t want you?”
“Because she needed me. She needed a body to fill the place of her daughter. I happened to look a lot like Elizabeth—”
“It’s remarkable, we’ve seen the photos, and it’s bizarre how similar you look.”
“Exactly. I was an alibi for her, a way for her to keep anyone from questioning. She kept that secret from everyone, including me.”
“What is your earliest memory of Julianne?”
“It’s kind of weird, but I remember wanting her to like me. I just wanted her to see me.” She never did, though. That woman should never have been allowed to mother children.
“Why did you want her to like you?”
“I thought she was my new mom. Who doesn’t want their mom to like them? To love them? And... maybe a part of me knew she was dangerous, and pacifying her—making her happy—was a survival instinct. As if there was safety in flying under the radar. I don’t know.”
At hearing that, my mom reaches her arm behind me and pulls me into a side hug. She’s looking down at the floor, trying to mask her emotions. I turn back and give her a hug. This woman loves me. Her emotions bleed into mine, and my vision blurs. Charlotte hands me a tissue and gives Mom and me a moment to gather ourselves.
“Were there any fun times with your abductor?”
