Chapter 4 - Behind the Blue Door
A detective placed a photograph on the hospital table: "Your brother was investigating this before he died." I stared at the picture of the blue door. Then I noticed the number written on the frame. It was the same number as the date of Aaron's death.
Detective Harper didn't sit.
He stood across from me with his arms folded.
"We searched Reena's house."
"Why?"
"Because of what Drew told medical staff."
I looked at the photograph.
The blue door was narrow.
Plain.
Almost invisible behind a tall cabinet.
Harper pointed to it.
"Does this look familiar?"
"Yes."
"Have you seen it before?"
"No."
"But your brother had."
I looked at him.
"How do you know?"
He placed another photograph on the table.
Aaron.
Standing in the same hallway.
Three months before his death.
I stared at it.
"Where did you get that?"
"Your brother's old laptop."
He slid a folder toward me.
Inside were photographs, notes, and audio recordings.
Aaron had been documenting everything.
Then Harper said something I couldn't understand.
"Your brother wasn't killed in an accident."
I looked up.
"What?"
Harper held my gaze.
"We're not ready to say that officially."
"But you just said—"
"I said his death is being reopened."
My hands tightened around the photograph.
Aaron had died after losing control of his car.
Everyone had called it tragic.
Reena had cried.
I had buried my brother.
And then I had watched his children disappear behind the walls of a house I trusted.
Harper pointed to the blue door.
"There's a camera angle we couldn't access."
"What does that mean?"
"It means someone removed footage."
"Who?"
"We don't know."
He opened another folder.
A printed message.
I read it.
DON'T LET THE CHILDREN SPEAK.
My stomach dropped.
"When was this sent?"
"Three days before Aaron died."
"To whom?"
Harper hesitated.
"We're still tracing it."
I thought about Gordon.
Aaron's attorney.
Reena's attorney.
The safe.
The room.
The messages.
Everything was becoming one story.
But there was still something missing.
"Why would Reena do this?"
Harper shook his head.
"We don't know whether she did."
I looked at him.
"What about Drew?"
"We believe he knows more than he understands."
I remembered his words.
She locked us in there again.
Again.
That word mattered.
It meant it had happened before.
Many times.
Harper's phone rang.
He stepped aside.
His expression changed.
He hung up.
"What?"
He looked at me.
"The blue door wasn't empty."
My heart started racing.
"What was inside?"
"A chair."
"Anything else?"
"A child's drawing."
He placed a photograph in front of me.
The drawing showed three stick figures.
A tall man.
A small boy.
A little girl.
And a fourth figure behind a door.
The fourth figure had no face.
At the bottom, in childish handwriting, were five words.
DAD SAID SHE WASN'T ALONE.
I stared at it.
"Drew drew this?"
"No."
"Lily?"
"No."
"Then who?"
Harper didn't answer.
Instead, he pulled out another envelope.
"This was found under the floor."
I opened it.
A letter.
Aaron's handwriting.
I read the first line.
If you're reading this, then I failed to get them out.
My vision blurred.
The letter continued.
Reena is not the only person involved.
I stopped.
Not the only person.
Harper watched me carefully.
"Keep reading."
I did.
Aaron had written about someone who helped Reena.
Someone who had access to the house.
Someone he trusted.
Then the final line appeared.
The person closest to my children is the one I fear most.
A sound came from behind me.
Drew.
He had woken up.
He was staring at the letter.
His face changed.
"Uncle?"
I turned.
"What is it?"
Drew pointed at Aaron's handwriting.
"I know who Dad meant."
I stood.
"Who?"
May you like
Drew's eyes moved toward the hospital door.
Then he whispered one name...
