Chapter 7 - The Secret in the Office
The police searched Richard's hidden office that same night.
I stayed at the hospital with our daughter.
Daniel went with the detectives.
Two hours later, he called.
"We found something."
"What?"
"Files."
"What kind?"
"About us."
My heart sank.
"How far back?"
"Years."
He paused.
"There's one folder with your name."
I sat beside our daughter's hospital bed.
"What's inside?"
"I haven't opened it."
"Why?"
"Because the detective wants to be here."
Then he whispered:
"There's another folder."
"Whose?"
"Our daughter's."
I closed my eyes.
"Daniel."
"I know."
"What does it say?"
"I don't know yet."
The line went silent.
Then I heard a door slam.
"Daniel?"
No answer.
"Daniel?"
The call disconnected.
I immediately called back.
No answer.
I called the detective.
He picked up.
"What's wrong?"
"Daniel's phone disconnected."
"We'll check."
Ten minutes later, my phone rang.
It was Daniel.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes."
"What happened?"
"We found a hidden room."
My breath caught.
"Where?"
"Behind the office."
He sounded different.
"What did you find?"
"A wall of files."
"About the family?"
"Yes."
"Anything about our daughter?"
Silence.
"Daniel?"
"I found a photograph."
"What photograph?"
"It's from before she was born."
My stomach tightened.
"Who's in it?"
"You."
My heart stopped.
"What?"
"You were pregnant."
"That's impossible."
"It was taken outside our house."
I stared at the hospital window.
"Who took it?"
Daniel didn't answer.
Then he said:
"Someone wrote something on the back."
"What?"
He read it.
"She must have the girl."
I felt sick.
"What does that mean?"
"I don't know."
"Daniel, come back."
"I will."
The call ended.
That night, our daughter finally slept peacefully.
I sat beside her.
For the first time, I allowed myself to think about the possibility that the kennel incident had been part of something larger.
It wasn't only about Richard's resentment.
It wasn't only about wanting a grandson.
Someone had been watching us.
Someone had documented our lives.
Someone had planned something.
At 3:12 a.m., the hospital lights flickered.
My daughter stirred.
Then my phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
One sentence:
"Richard wasn't the person who opened the kennel."
I stared at it.
Another message arrived.
"Look at the footage again."
I opened the video.
I watched Richard approach the kennel.
I watched him leave.
Then I noticed something.
A shadow moved behind the fence.
Not Richard.
Someone else.
I froze.
The camera angle was wide enough to show the entire yard.
The shadow moved toward the kennel.
Then stopped.
The timestamp read 2:21 p.m.
That was one minute before Richard appeared.
I zoomed in.
A figure stood behind the garage.
Wearing a dark jacket.
The same jacket from the photograph.
My phone vibrated again.
"Now you know where to look."
I looked toward the hospital hallway.
Then back at the screen.
The figure slowly stepped out from behind the garage.
May you like
And I recognized the face.
It was the man Daniel had said was dead.
