Chapter 3 - THE ROOM THAT DIDN'T EXISTThat night, I tore apart my own house.
Every cabinet.
Every wall.
Every locked drawer.
I searched for the basement Rachel had described.
Nothing.
The house had a foundation, a wine cellar, and a garage.
No hidden room.
No staircase.
No basement.
At two in the morning, Lily finally fell asleep on the couch.
Rachel sat at the dining table, staring at the photograph of Claire.
I couldn't stop watching her.
“You're still hiding something.”
She didn't answer.
“What happened three days ago?”
She looked up.
“Claire found documents.”
“What documents?”
“Financial records.”
I frowned.
“About what?”
“Your company.”
That caught my attention.
Claire worked as a legal consultant.
She had occasionally helped with my business.
“What did she find?”
“Money being moved through shell companies.”
I felt cold.
“By whom?”
Rachel hesitated.
Then whispered:
“Your father.”
My father had been dead for eight years.
“You're joking.”
“I wish I were.”
Rachel explained that Claire had discovered several transfers made years after his supposed death.
Millions of dollars.
Money routed through companies connected to people I had never heard of.
“And she thought someone was stealing from me?”
“No.”
Rachel shook her head.
“She thought your father wasn't really dead.”
I stared at her.
“That is impossible.”
“I know.”
She pushed a folder toward me.
Inside were bank statements, photographs and copies of signatures.
I recognized my father's handwriting.
My fingers went numb.
One transfer had been made six months ago.
Another two weeks ago.
The latest transfer was three days old.
The date Claire disappeared.
Then I noticed the account holder.
M. HARRISON.
My mother's maiden surname.
I looked at Rachel.
“Your family owns a company called Harrison Holdings?”
Rachel nodded slowly.
“My mother does.”
Evelyn.
Claire's mother.
My former future mother-in-law.
I stood.
“We're going to see her.”
Rachel grabbed my wrist.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because Claire told me not to.”
“She's missing.”
Rachel stared at me.
“She said that if anything happened to her, you must never let Evelyn know where the documents are.”
“The documents are here.”
“No.”
Rachel pointed at the folder.
“This is only a copy.”
“Where's the original?”
She looked at Lily sleeping across the room.
Then whispered:
“Your daughter knows.”
I looked at Lily.
“What?”
Rachel swallowed.
“Claire told her.”
The next morning I woke Lily gently.
“Sweetheart, Aunt Claire showed you something?”
Lily nodded sleepily.
“She said it was a secret.”
“What secret?”
Lily looked around.
Then reached into her backpack.
She pulled out a small brass key.
I stared.
“Where did you get that?”
“Claire gave it to me.”
Rachel stood behind us.
“What does it open?”
Lily shrugged.
“It was in the red room.”
The red room.
Our house didn't have one.
I followed Lily upstairs.
She stopped outside my study.
Then pointed toward the wall.
“This one.”
I touched the wallpaper.
Nothing.
Lily frowned.
“Daddy, push it.”
I pressed.
A click sounded.
The bookshelf moved three inches.
Rachel gasped.
Behind it was a narrow staircase descending into darkness.
I turned toward her.
“You said the room was under my house.”
Rachel nodded.
“I didn't know where.”
I switched on my flashlight.
At the bottom stood a steel door.
There was a keypad.
And taped above it was a photograph of Claire.
On the back, written in black ink:
MARK, DO NOT OPEN THIS ALONE.
May you like
Then the keypad beeped.
The door unlocked itself.
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