Chapter 7 - The Recording My Father Tried To Erase
The message stayed on my screen.
"Evelyn, don't listen to him."
I stared at the name above it.
My mother.
Margaret Carter.
The woman who had barely spoken to me in twelve years.
The woman who had watched me walk into that courtroom alone.
The woman who had never once asked how I survived my final deployment.
Now she was warning me.
About Thomas.
My fingers tightened around the phone.
Thomas looked at the message.
He didn't look surprised.
That bothered me.
"You knew she would send that."
His eyes moved toward me.
"No."
"Then why do you look like you expected it?"
He didn't answer.
I stepped back.
"Everyone keeps telling me what not to believe."
My voice shook.
"My parents."
"Daniel."
"Now you."
I held up the phone.
"Who is telling me the truth?"
Thomas looked at me quietly.
Then he said:
"Your grandfather."
I looked at the damaged recorder on the table.
The only person who couldn't defend himself.
The only person I still trusted.
"Fix the recording."
Thomas nodded.
"I can."
"Then do it."
He looked toward the basement.
"Not here."
I frowned.
"Why?"
"Because someone is already inside the house."
My body immediately reacted.
Years of training.
The smallest details suddenly mattered.
The silence.
The footsteps.
The warning messages.
I turned toward the hidden doorway.
"When did you know?"
Thomas lowered his voice.
"Before you arrived."
That answer made me angry.
"You knew someone was watching this place and you let me come here?"
"I didn't know it would be you."
The words stopped me.
"What?"
Thomas looked at the recorder.
"I knew someone would eventually find the room."
He paused.
"I didn't know Michael's granddaughter would be the one holding the key."
I stared at him.
"You knew about me?"
"Your grandfather talked about you every day."
That hurt.
Because my grandfather had been gone for years.
And somehow this stranger knew more about my relationship with him than my own parents did.
Thomas continued.
"He was proud of you."
I looked away.
I didn't want to cry.
Not there.
Not in front of another person who carried secrets.
"Then why didn't he tell me?"
Thomas didn't answer.
Instead, he walked toward the shelves.
He removed a small black box.
"This."
He placed it on the table.
I looked at it.
"What is it?"
"Something your grandfather wanted you to have before the recording."
I opened it.
Inside was a necklace.
Simple.
Old.
Attached to it was a small metal tag.
I turned it over.
There was an engraving.
A date.
My birthday.
I froze.
"Where did he get this?"
Thomas smiled sadly.
"He made it."
I touched the engraving.
"Why?"
"Because he wanted you to remember something."
"What?"
Thomas looked at me.
"That you were never the problem."
Those words hit harder than I expected.
Because for years, I had wondered.
Maybe my father was right.
Maybe I was too difficult.
Too independent.
Maybe choosing my own path meant abandoning everyone else.
But my grandfather never saw me that way.
Before I could respond, a noise came from upstairs.
A door closing.
Thomas immediately turned.
"Someone's here."
I grabbed the flashlight.
"How many?"
"I don't know."
I looked at him.
"You don't know?"
"No."
His expression changed.
"But I know they aren't here for the farmhouse."
A chill went through me.
"They're here for what's inside this room."
We moved quietly toward the stairs.
The basement was dark.
Every sound above us became louder.
A footstep.
A floorboard.
A whisper.
Thomas stopped me.
"Wait."
I looked at him.
He pointed upward.
Someone was standing near the basement door.
Not moving.
Listening.
My hand moved toward my phone.
No signal.
Of course.
Thomas slowly reached into his jacket.
I noticed.
"Don't."
He looked at me.
"I'm not going to hurt anyone."
"Then what are you reaching for?"
He pulled out a small key.
Another key.
Different from the one Daniel gave me.
"What is that?"
"The original."
I frowned.
"Original?"
Thomas looked at the hidden room.
"Your grandfather didn't create one way in."
My eyes narrowed.
"What does that mean?"
Before he could answer, the basement door opened.
Light spilled down the stairs.
A figure appeared.
I prepared myself.
Then I heard the voice.
"Evelyn."
I froze.
Because this time I knew exactly who it was.
My father.
Robert Carter.
He stood at the top of the stairs.
His face wasn't angry.
It wasn't confident.
It was desperate.
"Come upstairs."
I stared at him.
"Why?"
His eyes moved to Thomas.
Then back to me.
"Because you don't know what you're doing."
Thomas stepped forward.
"She knows enough."
My father looked at him.
"You should have stayed dead."
The words hit the room like an explosion.
I looked between them.
My father knew.
Not suspected.
Not guessed.
He knew.
Thomas's face hardened.
"I stayed away because your father asked me to."
My father laughed bitterly.
"My father was too forgiving."
I felt my stomach tighten.
"Stop."
Both men looked at me.
I pointed at my father.
"You knew he was alive."
Silence.
My father didn't deny it.
That was enough.
"Why?"
His face changed.
The anger disappeared.
For a second, he looked tired.
"I was trying to protect you."
I almost laughed.
"Everyone keeps saying that."
I stepped closer.
"Protect me from what?"
He looked at Thomas.
"From him."
Thomas shook his head.
"No."
My father looked at me.
"Your uncle was the reason your grandfather died."
The room went silent.
I looked at Thomas.
He didn't react.
That scared me.
Because if someone accused me of something I didn't do, I would defend myself immediately.
But Thomas just stood there.
Waiting.
"Say something."
Thomas looked at me.
"I can't."
"Why?"
"Because your father is using the same trick he used fifteen years ago."
My father stepped down one stair.
"Don't listen to him."
Thomas looked at him.
"You already took everything else."
My father's face darkened.
"I protected this family."
"No."
Thomas's voice became sharper.
"You protected yourself."
The argument stopped when my phone vibrated.
All three of us looked down.
A new message.
From my mother.
This time there was an attachment.
A video.
My heart sank.
I opened it.
The screen showed an old recording.
My grandfather.
Sitting in the farmhouse.
Alive.
Talking directly into the camera.
My breathing stopped.
Then his voice played.
"If Evelyn is watching this, it means Robert has already found the basement."
My father went completely still.
The video continued.
"And it means Thomas has failed to keep his promise."
Thomas closed his eyes.
I looked at him.
My grandfather's voice continued.
"Thomas was never supposed to bring her here."
A pause.
Then:
"Because the person Evelyn needs to fear is not the one standing beside her."
The video glitched.
Static covered the screen.
Then one final frame appeared.
A handwritten note.
My grandfather's writing.
Three words.
"Look behind Evelyn."
My body went cold.
Slowly...
May you like
I turned around.
Because someone was standing behind me.
