Chapter 4 - The Friend Who Was Supposed To Be Dead
The name hit me harder than anything else that night.
"Daniel's best friend is still alive."
I stared at my mother.
My brain tried to reject the words.
Because I knew Daniel's best friend.
Everyone did.
His name was Michael Reed.
And Michael Reed had died three years before Daniel.
At least...
That was what everyone told us.
"That's impossible."
The words came out before I could stop them.
My mother looked down.
Deputy Carter noticed.
"You know this person?"
I nodded slowly.
"Michael Reed."
My father closed his eyes.
That reaction told me everything.
He knew the name.
He knew the truth.
And he had been hiding it.
"You told me Michael died."
My father's silence was enough.
I stepped closer.
"You told me both of them died."
My voice started shaking.
"Daniel in a car accident. Michael from a heart attack."
Nobody answered.
Because suddenly the two deaths everyone accepted looked different.
They weren't separate tragedies.
They were connected.
Deputy Carter pulled out his notebook.
"When did Michael supposedly die?"
My mother answered quietly.
"Six months after Daniel."
"And before Daniel died?"
She looked at him.
"Yes."
Deputy Carter wrote something down.
"Where was the funeral?"
My mother hesitated.
I noticed.
She hesitated.
A funeral was supposed to be something people remembered.
A place.
A date.
A moment.
But she couldn't answer immediately.
"Mrs. Holloway?"
Her voice became smaller.
"There wasn't one."
The room went silent.
I looked at her.
"What?"
She wiped her hands.
"We were told not to ask questions."
I felt anger rise inside me.
"Not to ask questions?"
My mother looked at me.
"Sarah, you don't understand."
"No."
I shook my head.
"I understand perfectly."
I pointed toward the ceiling.
"Daniel leaves me a secret room."
I pointed toward the phone.
"He leaves messages saying someone knows I came home."
Then I looked at both of them.
"And now I find out the two people who supposedly died together weren't even dead?"
My voice broke.
"What exactly have you been protecting?"
My father sat down.
For the first time that night, he looked old.
Not physically.
Something deeper.
Like he had spent years carrying something he couldn't put down.
"Michael found Daniel."
I stared at him.
"What does that mean?"
He looked at the floor.
"After Daniel started investigating, he realized he couldn't trust anyone around him."
"Not even you?"
My father didn't answer.
That was an answer.
"He contacted Michael because Michael was the only person who knew everything."
Deputy Carter leaned forward.
"Everything about what?"
My father looked at him.
"The documents."
"What documents?"
My father took a breath.
"The ones Daniel found."
I felt my stomach tighten.
"The ones that erased people."
He nodded.
I thought about the letters.
The cabinet.
My missing identity.
The story my parents created.
For four years, I believed my family had abandoned me.
But now I wondered if something worse had happened.
Maybe they weren't just lying.
Maybe they were afraid.
The problem was...
Fear didn't excuse what they did.
My mother looked at me.
"We thought keeping you away would keep you alive."
I laughed quietly.
A painful sound.
"You made the entire town think I was a criminal."
Her eyes filled.
"I know."
"You destroyed my name."
"I know."
"You made me believe nobody wanted me."
She closed her eyes.
"I know."
I looked away.
Because hearing her admit it didn't make it hurt less.
Sometimes the truth doesn't heal immediately.
Sometimes it just proves how badly you were hurt.
Deputy Carter stood.
"Where is Michael Reed now?"
Nobody answered.
Then my father walked toward a cabinet near the basement stairs.
He unlocked it.
Inside was a small box.
Not like Daniel's.
This one was older.
Worn.
He handed it to me.
"I kept this because I promised Daniel."
I looked at him.
"What is it?"
"Something he left behind."
I opened the box.
Inside was a photograph.
Daniel.
Michael.
And me.
We were younger.
I was eighteen.
Daniel was twenty-two.
Michael was standing beside us, smiling.
On the back of the photo were words written in black ink.
Three names.
Three dates.
And one sentence.
"Only one of us was allowed to disappear."
My hands went cold.
There was something else beneath the photo.
A small flash drive.
Deputy Carter immediately reached for gloves.
"Don't touch it."
I froze.
He carefully removed it.
"Anything Daniel hid this carefully was important."
My father looked nervous.
"That drive wasn't supposed to still exist."
I turned toward him.
"Why?"
He looked at me.
"Because someone searched this house."
Deputy Carter stopped.
"When?"
My father swallowed.
"The night Daniel died."
The room became completely silent.
I stared at him.
"You never told the police?"
My father looked ashamed.
"No."
"Why?"
His answer came quietly.
"Because the police already knew."
That sentence changed everything.
Deputy Carter looked up.
"What did you just say?"
My father immediately regretted speaking.
But it was too late.
"The police knew?"
My father's hands started shaking.
"Not everyone."
"Who?"
He looked at Deputy Carter.
"I don't know."
That answer made no sense.
"You don't know who was involved?"
He shook his head.
"I only knew someone had access."
"Access to what?"
My father looked at me.
"Everything."
Deputy Carter took the flash drive to his vehicle.
A few minutes later, he returned.
His expression had changed.
That was the first thing I noticed.
He wasn't confused anymore.
He was concerned.
"There's video footage."
My heart stopped.
"From where?"
He looked at me.
"From the night Daniel died."
My father stood.
"Turn it off."
Deputy Carter looked at him.
"No."
"Please."
"No."
The deputy connected the drive.
A video file appeared.
No title.
No date.
Just one word.
"Sarah."
I looked at the screen.
My name.
My brother had created a video for me.
Not my parents.
Not the police.
Me.
Deputy Carter pressed play.
The screen went dark.
Then Daniel appeared.
Older than I remembered.
Tired.
Scared.
But alive.
My knees almost gave out.
Because I was seeing my dead brother.
Speaking.
Breathing.
Looking directly into the camera.
"Sarah," Daniel said.
"If you're watching this, it means Mom and Dad couldn't stop you from finding the truth."
I covered my mouth.
Daniel looked away from the camera.
Like someone was standing nearby.
Then he whispered:
"The person who destroyed our family isn't outside this house."
A pause.
His eyes moved toward the door behind him.
"It's someone we've trusted for years."
The video suddenly glitched.
Daniel's face disappeared.
Then one final image appeared.
A person standing behind him.
Someone I recognized.
Someone I never expected.
The video froze.
And Deputy Carter whispered:
May you like
"That's not possible."
Because standing behind Daniel was the person everyone believed had been dead for three years.
