Chapter 2: The Safe My Father Died Protecting
The hospital doors slammed shut behind me.
Claire disappeared down the corridor with two paramedics pushing her stretcher toward the emergency room.
I stood frozen for half a second.
Then I remembered the brass key in my fist.
My father’s safe.
The same safe Claire had discovered.
The same safe my mother was terrified I would open.
I looked through the glass doors.
Nathan was standing in the hospital lobby.
He had followed me.
Of course he had.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I said.
Nathan shoved his hands into his coat pockets.
“She’s my sister-in-law.”
“You tried to leave before the ambulance arrived.”
“I panicked.”
“You weren't panicking.”
He stared at me.
“You don't know what you saw.”
“I saw my pregnant wife lying inside a coffin.”
His jaw tightened.
“And I saw you standing beside her.”
Before he could answer, a nurse hurried past us.
“Mr. Parker?”
I turned.
“Yes?”
“The doctors are asking for you.”
I followed her toward the emergency department.
Claire was surrounded by medical staff.
Machines beeped rapidly.
An oxygen mask covered her face.
A doctor looked at me.
“She's alive, but the sedative was extremely strong.”
“Will she wake up?”
“We don't know yet.”
“What about the baby?”
The doctor paused.
“We detected a heartbeat.”
My knees almost gave out.
“But her condition is unstable. At eight months, we're watching both mother and child very closely.”
I nodded.
“Whoever did this injected her.”
“Yes.”
“Can you tell what drug?”
“We're running tests.”
“Can you tell when?”
“Not precisely.”
I looked through the glass at Claire.
Her hand was resting beside her stomach.
I pressed my palm against the window.
“I'll find whoever did this.”
The doctor gave me a strange look.
“Mr. Parker, the police should be involved.”
“They will be.”
My phone vibrated.
I pulled it from my pocket.
One message.
Unknown number.
DON'T OPEN THE SAFE.
I stared at the screen.
Another message appeared.
YOUR FATHER MADE THE SAME MISTAKE.
My blood turned cold.
I looked around the hallway.
People were walking past.
Doctors.
Nurses.
Visitors.
Nobody seemed to be watching me.
Then my phone vibrated again.
IF YOU OPEN IT, CLAIRE WON'T SURVIVE THE NIGHT.
I immediately called the number.
It rang once.
Twice.
Then someone answered.
I said nothing.
Neither did they.
Finally, a distorted voice whispered,
“You should have stayed overseas.”
The line went dead.
I looked at Nathan.
He was watching me.
“You got a call?”
“No.”
He looked away too quickly.
I walked toward him.
“What did you do to Claire?”
His expression hardened.
“Nothing.”
“Then why are you afraid?”
“I'm not.”
“You're lying.”
He stepped closer.
“You don't understand the situation.”
“Then explain it.”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because if I tell you, you'll make everything worse.”
I stared at him.
“Worse than putting my wife in a coffin?”
Nathan didn't answer.
My phone buzzed again.
This time it wasn't a message.
It was a photograph.
I opened it.
My stomach dropped.
It showed Claire standing inside my father's old office.
She was holding a folder.
The photograph had clearly been taken secretly.
Behind her was the wall where my father's safe had been installed.
But that wasn't what frightened me.
In the corner of the photograph stood another person.
A man.
His face was hidden.
But I recognized the black watch on his wrist.
I had seen that watch earlier tonight.
On Nathan.
I looked up.
Nathan was gone.
I ran toward the hospital entrance.
Outside, his car was already leaving.
I pulled out my phone and called the police.
This time, I told them everything.
The coffin.
The injection.
The missing medical records.
The threatening messages.
And the safe.
Then I drove home.
Not my house.
My father's old estate.
The property had been locked since his death.
Nobody went there anymore.
Nobody except me.
And apparently Claire.
The front door opened with a groan.
Inside, everything looked exactly as I remembered.
Dust covered the furniture.
Family portraits lined the walls.
My father's study was at the end of the hallway.
I unlocked the door.
The room smelled like old leather and tobacco.
His desk was still there.
His books were still there.
Even his old mechanical clock sat beneath a layer of dust.
I walked toward the bookshelf.
The safe was behind it.
I moved three heavy books.
Then pulled the hidden lever.
The bookshelf shifted.
The safe appeared.
I inserted the brass key.
It fit perfectly.
I turned it.
Click.
The door opened.
I expected documents.
Money.
Perhaps evidence of Nathan's theft.
Instead, I found a single black envelope.
My name was written across it.
Not my full name.
Just one word.
Daniel.
My father's handwriting.
My hands began shaking.
I opened the envelope.
Inside was a letter.
I unfolded it.
Daniel,
If you're reading this, then something has gone terribly wrong.
I stopped.
My father's words blurred.
I forced myself to continue.
I no longer trust Evelyn.
I no longer trust Nathan.
And there is something you must know about the company.
My heart hammered.
I kept reading.
The money Nathan has been moving isn't company money.
It belongs to someone else.
I frowned.
Someone else?
The next sentence made my blood run cold.
Your mother knows who.
I heard a noise behind me.
A floorboard creaked.
I spun around.
Nobody.
The hallway was empty.
I returned to the letter.
I tried to stop them.
They told me Claire had discovered too much.
I stopped breathing.
Claire.
My father had mentioned her.
Before she had even married me.
I read faster.
If Claire ever finds the documents, protect her.
She is the only person in this family who will not accept the lie.
I looked at the date.
The letter had been written six weeks before my father's death.
But there was more.
At the bottom, he had written:
The child will inherit everything.
I stared at the sentence.
What child?
Claire was pregnant now.
But my father had written this two years ago.
Unless...
A sound came from downstairs.
Someone had entered the house.
I grabbed the letter.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Heavy.
Coming toward the study.
I reached for my phone.
No signal.
The footsteps stopped outside the door.
Then the doorknob moved.
I backed toward the safe.
The door opened.
My mother walked inside.
Evelyn.
She wasn't wearing her black funeral dress anymore.
She was holding something in her hand.
A handgun.
I froze.
She closed the door behind her.
“You shouldn't have opened it.”
I stared at the weapon.
“Mom...”
“You were never supposed to know.”
“What did Dad mean?”
She looked at the letter.
Then at me.
“You think Nathan stole the money.”
“Did he?”
“No.”
I frowned.
“Then who?”
My mother took one step forward.
“The money was never stolen.”
“Then where did it go?”
She swallowed.
“It was transferred.”
“To whom?”
She looked directly into my eyes.
“To your unborn child.”
I felt the room tilt.
“What?”
My mother lowered the gun.
“Your father discovered something about your marriage before he died.”
“What did he discover?”
She hesitated.
Then whispered,
“Claire wasn't the person you thought she was.”
My heart stopped.
“What are you talking about?”
Before she could answer, my phone suddenly rang.
The sound echoed through the study.
Unknown number.
My mother looked at the screen.
Her face changed.
“Don't answer that.”
I did.
A man's voice came through.
Calm.
Cold.
“Daniel.”
I recognized it.
The same distorted voice from earlier.
“You opened the safe.”
I stared at my mother.
The caller continued.
“Now you finally deserve to know why your father died.”
Then the line went silent.
A second later, a text appeared.
LOOK UNDER THE FLOORBOARD.
I looked down.
One loose floorboard sat directly beneath my father's desk.
I knelt.
My mother shouted,
“Don't!”
I lifted it anyway.
Beneath the floor was a small metal box.
And taped to its lid was a photograph.
A photograph of Claire.
But Claire wasn't alone.
Standing beside her was my father.
May you like
And written on the back were seven words that made my entire world collapse:
She came to your father before she met you.
