“Daniel.”
He didn't answer.
I stepped closer.
“Who was that?”
He remained at the window.
His face had gone pale.
“Daniel.”
“I don't know.”
“You do.”
“No.”
“You recognized him.”
He turned toward me.
“I recognized the car.”
“That's not what I asked.”
His silence told me enough.
Robert moved between us.
“Sit down.”
Daniel obeyed.
Derek remained near the window.
“Who was he?” he asked.
Daniel rubbed his hands together.
“I knew him years ago.”
“From where?”
“The company.”
“What company?”
“My grandfather's.”
I stared at him.
“You worked for him?”
“After college.”
“You never told me.”
“There wasn't much to tell.”
“Apparently there was.”
Daniel looked at the ledger.
“He was one of the men who handled property records.”
“What was his name?”
“Samuel Price.”
Robert wrote it down.
“Is he still alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where does he live?”
“I don't know.”
“You recognized him.”
“Yes.”
“Then you know more than you are saying.”
Daniel's eyes filled.
“I haven't seen him in years.”
“But he knows you.”
“Yes.”
“Does he know me?”
“Yes.”
I felt the room become colder.
“How?”
“He knew about Evelyn.”
“And me?”
Daniel hesitated.
“He knew there was a child.”
“Did he know I was that child?”
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“No.”
“You are.”
He looked at me.
“I don't know if he knew your name.”
That distinction was too narrow to comfort me.
Robert asked, “Why would Samuel be watching now?”
“I don't know.”
“Because we found the ledger?”
“Maybe.”
“Because Mara is asking questions?”
“Maybe.”
“Because someone wants the records?”
Daniel looked at the ledger.
“Possibly.”
Derek said quietly, “What if he wants the key?”
Everyone looked at him.
“The second key,” he continued.
Daniel's expression changed.
“What?”
“If the first key opened the barn, maybe the other opens something else.”
Daniel shook his head.
“You don't understand.”
“Then explain.”
“The second key was never meant to be found.”
I looked at him.
“Where is it?”
Daniel hesitated.
“My father gave it to me.”
My chest tightened.
“You have it?”
He nodded.
“Where?”
Daniel reached inside his coat.
He pulled out a small metal key.
It was older than the one we had found.
Stamped into it were two characters.
P.O. 17.
I stared.
“The post-office box.”
“Yes.”
“Why did you keep it?”
“Because I thought Evelyn might come back.”
“And she didn't.”
“No.”
I took the key.
It felt cold.
“What is in the box?”
“I don't know.”
“You never checked?”
“I tried.”
“When?”
“Twenty years ago.”
“And?”
“The box had been reassigned.”
I looked at Robert.
“So the key is useless.”
“Maybe not,” he said.
Daniel looked at him.
“What do you mean?”
“Post-office boxes get reassigned. But old records may still exist.”
Robert called the lawyer.
While he spoke, I looked at Derek.
He was staring at the key.
“What?”
“I've seen that number before.”
“Where?”
“In the warehouse.”
I felt my pulse quicken.
“On what?”
“A metal door.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“No.”
“What?”
“That can't be.”
“What can't?”
“The warehouse wasn't supposed to exist anymore.”
Robert ended his call.
“What happened?”
“The lawyer can request historical records.”
“How long?”
“Several days.”
“We don't have several days.”
Robert looked at me.
“We don't know that.”
The truth was, we didn't.
The threats had stopped for the moment.
The sedan had appeared again.
But nobody had directly harmed us.
Yet.
That evening, we locked every door.
I moved the curtains.
Robert stayed overnight.
Derek slept in the guest room.
Daniel remained in the living room.
It felt strange having all of them under my roof.
The same house that had once held only me and my fear now held four adults trying to understand a history that had been hidden for decades.
Around midnight, I heard footsteps.
I opened my bedroom door.
Derek stood in the hallway.
“Can't sleep?”
“No.”
“Me neither.”
He leaned against the wall.
“I keep thinking about that night.”
“So do I.”
“I thought everything started with me.”
“It didn't.”
“I still did something terrible.”
“Yes.”
He nodded.
“I don't want this family secret to become an excuse.”
“It won't.”
“I need you to say that.”
I looked at him.
“This isn't about excusing you.”
“I know.”
“You hurt me.”
“I know.”
“And someone else may have been creating pressure around you.”
“I know.”
“Both are true.”
He nodded.
“I can live with that.”
“Good.”
He looked toward the living room.
“Daniel told me something earlier.”
“What?”
“He said Dad once told him that if the truth came out, three people would come looking.”
I felt cold.
“Who?”
“He didn't know.”
I looked toward the living room.
“Did Daniel tell you anything else?”
“No.”
We stood quietly.
Then my phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
I opened the message.
Stop looking for Evelyn.
A second message followed.
She chose to disappear.
I stared at the screen.
Then another arrived.
Ask Daniel what happened at the river.
I walked into the living room.
Daniel was awake.
I held up the phone.
“What happened at the river?”
His face changed.
Robert stood.
Derek looked from him to me.
Daniel closed his eyes.
“I was afraid this would happen.”
“What happened?”
“I don't know what you want me to say.”
“The truth.”
He looked at me.
“Evelyn didn't disappear by herself.”
My heart stopped.
“What do you mean?”
“She was taken to the river.”
“By whom?”
“I don't know.”
“Did you see it?”
“I saw her there.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“The night she disappeared.”
My voice shook.
“What happened?”
Daniel stared at the floor.
“She gave me something.”
“What?”
“A photograph.”
“Of what?”
“Her child.”
I swallowed.
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“Then what?”
“She told me to take you.”
“Where?”
“To Margaret.”
“And you did.”
“Yes.”
“What happened to Evelyn?”
Daniel looked at me.
“She walked toward the river.”
“And?”
“I never saw her again.”
The room went silent.
I looked at him.
“You let her go?”
“I was twenty-four.”
“You could have followed her.”
“I was told not to.”
“By whom?”
He didn't answer.
“Daniel.”
He whispered one word.
“Dad.”
Click here to continue reading: PART 16: Daniel Finally Named the Person Who Ordered Him Away From the River, and the Truth About My Father Was Worse Than the Lie
The Night I Stopped Explaining Away My Son’s Anger and Finally Saw What Our Home Had Become
Part 15 of 25
