Chapter 3 - The Photograph from Seventeen Years Ago
Darkness swallowed the basement.
Emily heard Ruth gasp.
Adrian immediately reached for her arm.
"Stay here."
"No."
Her phone remained against her ear.
"Dad?"
The call had ended.
Emergency lights flickered on.
Thomas was gone.
"Where is he?" Emily whispered.
Adrian turned toward the corridor.
The basement door was swinging shut.
He ran.
Emily followed.
They reached the stairwell.
Empty.
Ruth stared upward.
"Thomas wouldn't run."
"He just did," Emily said.
Adrian called him.
Straight to voicemail.
Emily looked at her phone.
Her father's number was blocked.
"Can you trace it?"
"I'm a software executive, Emily, not a spy."
Despite everything, she almost smiled.
Then Adrian added, "But I know people who can legally help us preserve whatever information is available."
"Legally."
"Important word."
They returned to the locker.
The documents remained.
Adrian photographed every page.
Emily found something else beneath the box.
A child's drawing.
Three stick figures.
MOM.
DAD.
EMILY.
She recognized it.
"I made this."
Ruth stared.
"How?"
"I was nine."
On the back, in Sarah's handwriting:
If anything happens, Margaret has the second copy.
Adrian read it twice.
"My mother had another copy."
"Where?"
"I don't know."
Ruth did.
"Her house."
Adrian looked at her.
"The house was sold."
"Not that house."
Margaret Bennett had owned a small cottage in Connecticut under her maiden name.
Adrian had never known.
They drove there that afternoon.
The cottage had been maintained through a trust.
Inside, dust covered almost everything.
Adrian walked slowly through rooms his mother had apparently visited without him.
Emily understood that particular kind of grief.
Discovering secrets about the dead felt like losing them again.
In Margaret's bedroom they found a locked desk.
Emily noticed scratches beneath the lowest drawer.
Three numbers.
4-12-9.
Adrian tried the combination.
The desk opened.
Inside was a photograph of Sarah and Margaret.
And a cassette recorder.
Adrian pressed play.
Margaret's voice filled the room.
"If Adrian ever hears this, I'm sorry."
He stopped breathing.
The recording continued.
Margaret explained that Victor Bennett had been involved in diverting foundation funds.
But he hadn't worked alone.
Someone else had approved transactions after Victor's supposed death.
Someone who had access to the Bennett family accounts.
Then Margaret said:
"Thomas believes Victor died. I no longer do."
Adrian sank into a chair.
Emily touched his shoulder.
The recording clicked.
Another voice appeared.
Sarah's.
"If Victor is alive, Daniel and I need to take Emily and leave."
Emily covered her mouth.
Her mother's voice.
Six years dead.
Suddenly alive in the room.
Margaret answered:
"Not yet. We need proof."
The recording ended.
Adrian stared at the machine.
"My father might be alive."
Emily looked at him.
"And mine definitely was three minutes ago."
They searched the desk.
Behind the recorder was a sealed envelope.
ADRIAN.
He opened it.
Inside was a key and a handwritten address in Brooklyn.
Then Emily's phone chimed.
A photograph arrived from an unknown number.
It showed Noah's hospital room.
Taken from the hallway.
Emily went cold.
Underneath was one sentence.
STOP LOOKING.
She called Noah.
He answered.
"I'm fine."
"Lock the door."
"What?"
"Lock it now."
Adrian was already calling hospital security.
Noah moved.
Emily heard the lock click.
Then someone knocked.
"Emily?" Noah whispered.
"Don't open it."
Another knock.
A man's voice came through the door.
"Noah Carter?"
Emily gripped the phone.
"Do not answer."
The handle moved.
Once.
Twice.
Then stopped.
A piece of paper slid underneath the door.
Noah whispered:
"There's something written on it."
"What?"
He picked it up.
Emily heard his breathing change.
"Noah?"
"It's Dad's handwriting."
"What does it say?"
There was a pause.
Then Noah read it.
May you like
"Emily has the wrong photograph."
The call abruptly disconnected.
