Chapter 2 - The Phone That Shouldn't Exist
The phone kept ringing.
Evelyn backed away from the blue box.
“My mother buried that phone six years ago.”
Adrian stared at her.
Nobody spoke.
The old cell phone vibrated against the bottom of the wooden box, its cracked screen casting a pale light across Claire’s envelope.
EVELYN HART.
The name disappeared.
Silence.
Then the phone began ringing again.
Same caller.
Same name.
Adrian reached for it.
“Don’t.”
Evelyn’s voice cracked.
His hand stopped.
“Why?”
“Because whoever is calling knows we opened the box.”
Mrs. Bell gripped the edge of the nightstand.
Jordan and Justin sat together on Claire’s bed, watching the adults with frightened eyes.
Adrian looked at his sons.
Whatever this was, they would not be part of it.
“Mrs. Bell, take the boys downstairs.”
Jordan immediately grabbed Evelyn’s hand.
“No.”
“Jordan.”
“She comes too.”
Adrian crouched beside him.
“Evelyn needs to stay with me for a few minutes.”
Jordan’s face tightened.
“You promised.”
“I promised she wasn’t leaving tonight.”
“You get mad and people leave.”
The words hurt more the second time.
Adrian lowered his voice.
“She isn’t leaving.”
Jordan studied him with the brutal suspicion only a frightened child could manage.
Then he looked at Evelyn.
“You promise?”
Evelyn swallowed.
“I promise.”
Jordan finally released her.
Mrs. Bell took both boys toward the doorway.
Justin stopped beside Adrian.
“Daddy?”
“Yes?”
“Mommy said blue was for secrets.”
Adrian froze.
Mrs. Bell did too.
“What did you say?”
Justin pointed at the box.
“Blue is for secrets.”
“Who told you that?”
“Mommy.”
Adrian felt the room tilt.
Claire had been dead fourteen months.
Justin had been four when she died.
Children remembered strange things.
Colors.
Songs.
The smell of shampoo.
A sentence spoken once in a kitchen.
But Mrs. Bell’s expression told Adrian this was not random.
He looked at her.
“You've heard that before.”
Mrs. Bell avoided his eyes.
“Take them downstairs.”
“Adrian—”
“Now.”
She left with the twins.
The door remained open.
Adrian waited until their footsteps disappeared.
Then he turned to Evelyn.
“Start talking.”
“I already told you everything.”
“No. You told me your mother buried this phone.”
Evelyn stared at the device.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Her hands trembled.
“Because it belonged to my sister.”
Adrian’s anger paused.
“You have a sister?”
“Had.”
One word.
Past tense.
“When did she die?”
Evelyn looked at him.
“Six years ago.”
The phone stopped ringing.
Adrian glanced at it.
“Name?”
“Rachel.”
“Rachel Hart?”
“Yes.”
“How did she die?”
Evelyn hesitated.
“Car accident.”
Something cold moved through Adrian.
Claire had died in a car accident.
He told himself it meant nothing.
Thousands of people died in car accidents.
“What does Rachel have to do with my wife?”
“I don’t know.”
“Your name is written on a note hidden in Claire’s bedroom. Your dead sister’s phone is inside a box my wife gave Mrs. Bell instructions to hide. Somebody is calling that phone using your name.”
His voice hardened.
“Do not tell me you don’t know.”
“I don’t!”
Jordan’s voice echoed faintly from downstairs.
Evelyn lowered hers.
“I came to this house because I needed work. That’s all.”
“Who recommended you?”
“An agency.”
“Which agency?”
“Westbridge Domestic.”
Adrian pulled out his phone.
He searched.
Nothing.
He tried again.
“Spell it.”
Evelyn did.
Still nothing.
“There’s no company.”
Her face changed.
“That’s impossible.”
“Who interviewed you?”
“A woman named Diane.”
“Last name?”
“Mercer.”
“Office?”
“Downtown. East Thirty-Ninth.”
“Address?”
Evelyn gave it.
Adrian searched.
His jaw tightened.
The address belonged to a parking garage.
Evelyn took the phone from his hand.
“No.”
She searched herself.
Same result.
“No, I went there.”
“To a parking garage?”
“There was an office.”
“What floor?”
“Seven.”
“The building has four levels.”
Evelyn stared at the screen.
Adrian watched the color drain from her face.
“Someone wanted you inside my house.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Convenient.”
She looked up sharply.
“You think I planned this?”
“I think I don’t know you.”
“I take care of your children.”
“You've known them three weeks.”
“And somehow I know Justin hides crackers beneath his pillow because he thinks there won't be breakfast if he wakes up too late.”
Adrian went still.
Evelyn continued before she could stop herself.
“I know Jordan pretends he hates being hugged because he thinks crying makes you sad. I know both boys wait until they hear your car at night before they finally close their eyes.”
“Enough.”
“They're scared.”
“I said enough.”
“And you're scared too.”
The room went silent.
Adrian’s expression changed.
Evelyn realized she had crossed a line.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t analyze me.”
“I wasn't.”
“You're an employee.”
“Yes.”
“Remember that.”
Pain flickered across her face.
She nodded.
Adrian hated himself slightly for noticing.
The phone rang again.
Both turned.
EVELYN HART.
Adrian picked it up.
Evelyn grabbed his arm.
“Please.”
“If someone knows you're here, I want to know who.”
“What if answering is exactly what they want?”
“Then they'll get it.”
He pressed accept.
Silence.
Adrian put the phone to his ear.
“Who is this?”
Nothing.
Then breathing.
A woman.
Slow.
Unsteady.
“Who is this?”
A whisper came through.
“Evelyn?”
Evelyn’s knees nearly gave way.
Adrian switched to speaker.
“Identify yourself.”
The woman ignored him.
“Evelyn, listen to me.”
Evelyn covered her mouth.
That voice.
She knew it.
No.
She couldn't.
“Rachel?”
The line went silent.
Evelyn stepped toward the phone.
“Rachel?”
A sharp crack sounded through the speaker.
Then static.
Then the woman spoke again.
“You shouldn't have gone to the Cole house.”
Evelyn stared at Adrian.
His expression hardened.
“Who are you?”
“You need to leave.”
“Rachel?”
“Tonight.”
Evelyn began crying.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
Tears simply appeared.
“My sister is dead.”
A pause.
Then:
“I know.”
The call ended.
Evelyn stood motionless.
Adrian immediately checked the number.
Blocked.
He tried calling back.
Nothing.
Evelyn sat on the edge of the bed.
“That was her voice.”
“Voices can be imitated.”
“I know my sister.”
“Six years is a long time.”
“I know her voice.”
Adrian studied her.
For the first time since entering the bedroom, he believed she was genuinely terrified.
“Tell me about Rachel.”
Evelyn wiped her face.
“She was eleven years older than me.”
“What did she do?”
“Everything.”
“Profession?”
Evelyn hesitated.
“She worked for wealthy families.”
Adrian felt the answer before he asked.
“As what?”
“A nanny.”
He looked at Claire’s photograph.
“Did she ever work for my family?”
“No.”
“You're certain?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Because she told me about every family.”
“Every family?”
“She kept notebooks.”
“Where are they?”
“Gone.”
“Why?”
“My mother burned them after Rachel died.”
Adrian stared.
“Your family buries phones and burns notebooks?”
Evelyn looked ashamed.
“My mother believed Rachel had gotten involved with dangerous people.”
“What people?”
“She never said.”
“And the accident?”
“Police said she fell asleep driving.”
“You didn't believe them.”
“No.”
“Why?”
Evelyn's voice dropped.
“Rachel was terrified of driving at night. She never did it.”
Adrian looked again at Claire’s envelope.
He had nearly forgotten it.
His wife’s handwriting waited inches away.
ADRIAN.
He reached for it.
Evelyn stood.
“Maybe we shouldn't.”
“Why?”
“The caller knew I was here.”
“Which means waiting helps whoever arranged this.”
He broke the seal.
Inside was a single sheet.
Adrian unfolded it.
The first line made him sit down.
Adrian,
If you're reading this, then either I finally found the courage to tell you everything, or I didn't live long enough to do it myself.
His throat tightened.
Claire had written this before she died.
He continued.
There is something I should have told you before we married. I convinced myself it belonged to a life that ended before you. Then Jordan and Justin were born, and I realized some secrets don't disappear. They wait.
Adrian stopped.
Evelyn stood beside him.
“Keep reading.”
He did.
If Evelyn Hart is in our home, do not blame her. She knows less than you do.
Evelyn gasped.
Adrian read the sentence again.
Claire knew her name.
Years before Adrian had supposedly met her.
He continued.
Find Rachel Hart's notebook.
Do not trust the police report about her death.
And whatever happens, do not let anyone take the boys to St. Catherine's.
Adrian stood so quickly the chair beside him scraped across the floor.
“What is St. Catherine’s?”
Evelyn looked horrified.
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“I swear.”
He read the final lines.
Mrs. Bell knows where I hid the first key.
The second key belongs to someone you trusted more than me.
I am sorry.
Claire.
Adrian lowered the page.
His hands shook.
Claire had hidden something from him before their marriage.
Something involving Evelyn's sister.
Something involving their children.
And Claire had apparently believed she might die before revealing it.
Adrian walked into the hallway.
“Mrs. Bell!”
No answer.
He went downstairs.
Evelyn followed.
The living room was empty.
Kitchen.
Empty.
Playroom.
Empty.
Adrian’s pace quickened.
“Jordan?”
Nothing.
“Justin?”
Evelyn ran toward the back hallway.
“Mrs. Bell?”
Silence.
Adrian reached the foyer.
The front door was open.
His blood turned cold.
Then Mrs. Bell appeared from the library.
“What's wrong?”
“Where are my sons?”
She looked confused.
“With you.”
Adrian stared at her.
“What?”
“They came back upstairs ten minutes ago.”
“No, they didn't.”
Mrs. Bell went pale.
Evelyn ran toward the staircase.
Adrian caught her.
“Wait.”
Something had changed.
A sound.
Very faint.
Music.
Coming from upstairs.
A children's lullaby.
Adrian knew it immediately.
Claire used to sing it to the twins.
Nobody had played that melody since she died.
They ran upstairs.
The sound led them past Claire's bedroom.
Past the guest rooms.
Toward the west corridor.
A section of the house that had been closed for renovations for months.
At the end stood an old nursery door.
Adrian had personally ordered it locked.
Tonight it was open.
Jordan's blue pajama sleeve disappeared through the doorway.
“Jordan!”
Adrian ran.
The nursery was empty.
One window stood open.
But the twins weren't there.
Evelyn noticed something on the floor.
A small red toy car.
Justin's favorite.
Beside it lay another folded note.
Adrian picked it up.
Three words.
BRING THE BOX.
Evelyn whispered, “Someone took them.”
Adrian turned toward the open window.
Then his phone vibrated.
A photograph appeared from an unknown number.
Jordan and Justin were sitting in the back seat of a black car.
Alive.
Terrified.
Adrian's next breath stopped when he saw the woman sitting between them.
May you like
He knew her face.
He had buried her fourteen months ago.
