All In Her Mind?

She made a cup of hot orange and went up to the study to look at her emails. When she opened the door, she nearly dropped the drink
      The screensaver danced across the monitor.
      She hadn't used the computer today.  

She hurried through the flat, checking the windows and locks. Outside, she glanced around, shivering from the cold.  There was nothing suspicious, no indication of a break in.  She must have logged on early this morning and forgotten.
      She went in and put the chain on the lock.  

Back in the study, her emails flashed up on the screen, an untitled one from Cynthia at the top.  
        Her uncle's ex-wife, Cynthia. The woman in white, with the deep blue eyes and blonde hair, like her own, who had leaned over the bed and peered frighteningly into her face nearly two decades ago.
      Hello.  I'm your Auntie Cynthia.  And you must be Michelle.
      She felt violently sick.  At some point in her childhood, she'd overheard strangers in her uncle's house, whispering about a girl called Michelle who'd died in a barn fire, along with her parents.  
      But how could that be?  She was Michelle.  And apart from the year she'd spent in Uncle and Cynthia's care, she'd lived with her parents until the car crash.  
      She clicked on the untitled email.  
      Cynthia's message came up blank.