Chapter 11 - The Sister in the WindowI refused to stay hidden.
Not because I was brave.
Because I was tired.
Tired of being hunted.
Tired of being lied to.
Tired of discovering that every person I trusted had kept another secret.
We went to the Hale Estate.
The police had surrounded the property.
Yellow tape stretched across the driveway.
David's body had been removed.
But someone was still inside.
A woman stood behind the second-floor window.
She looked exactly like my sister.
Linda.
Older.
Thinner.
Alive.
She lifted her hand.
Then disappeared.
I pushed past the police barricade.
“Ma'am, you can't go in there.”
“That's my sister.”
The officer looked confused.
“Your sister?”
I pointed toward the window.
“She is inside.”
He called another officer.
Within minutes, we were escorted into the house.
The room upstairs was empty.
Only a photograph remained on the windowsill.
It showed Linda and Donald.
Twenty-five years earlier.
On the back:
WE TRIED TO PROTECT YOU.
I turned to Harold.
“Who is ‘we’?”
He didn't answer.
Then we heard footsteps downstairs.
A door slammed.
I ran.
We found an old woman standing in the hallway.
She was holding a cane.
She looked at me.
“Margaret.”
I couldn't speak.
Linda smiled sadly.
“You finally came.”
My knees weakened.
“You're alive.”
“Yes.”
“Why did you let me think you were dead?”
“To protect you.”
“From what?”
She looked around the house.
“From the people who killed your husband.”
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because the moment you knew, they would come for you.”
“They already came.”
Linda's eyes filled with tears.
“I know.”
I stepped toward her.
“Tell me everything.”
She shook her head.
“Not here.”
“Why?”
“Because there are cameras.”
I looked around.
“Whose?”
“Thomas.”
“Is he here?”
“No.”
“Then where is he?”
“Looking for the money.”
“Does he know about the vault?”
“Yes.”
“Does he know what it is?”
Linda stared at me.
“Not exactly.”
“What is the vault?”
She came closer.
“The vault isn't an account.”
I swallowed.
“Then what is it?”
“It's you.”
I felt a chill.
“What does that mean?”
“You possess something Donald never told you about.”
“What?”
“Your memory.”
I stared at her.
“My memory?”
Linda nodded.
“Donald believed you remembered something from your childhood.”
“I don't understand.”
“You saw something.”
“When?”
“When you were seventeen.”
My mind raced.
Nothing came.
Linda continued.
“Your father worked at a bank.”
“Yes.”
“He handled private accounts.”
“Yes.”
“One night, you accidentally saw a group of men meeting in the basement.”
I shook my head.
“I don't remember.”
“Donald thought your mind blocked it.”
“What did I see?”
“A ledger.”
“What kind?”
“A black book.”
I looked at Harold.
He had gone pale.
“The same ledger Donald left?”
Linda nodded.
“The original.”
My heart pounded.
“Where is it?”
“You have it.”
“What?”
Linda touched my purse.
I opened it.
Harold's black ledger was inside.
I pulled it out.
Linda pointed at it.
“That isn't the original.”
“Then where is the original?”
She leaned close.
“In your old house.”
I froze.
“But the police are there.”
“Not the police.”
“What?”
Linda's expression changed.
“Someone else arrived first.”
She opened the curtains.
Across the street was a black sedan.
Thomas.
He stepped out.
He looked directly at the window.
Then he smiled.
My blood ran cold.
Linda whispered,
“You have ten minutes.”
“To do what?”
“Get to the basement.”
“Why?”
“Because Thomas isn't looking for the money anymore.”
She looked at me.
“He's looking for the person who knows where Donald hid it.”
“And who is that?”
Linda's voice trembled.
“You.”
May you like
Then every light in the house went out.
And the front door slowly opened.
