Chapter 5 - The Woman I Didn't KnowThe room went silent.
I stared at Stephanie.
“What did you just say?”
She smiled again.
“I said I put some of Dad's old files in the basement.”
“Why?”
“You've been upset. I thought you needed closure.”
I didn't believe her.
Not for one second.
“What files?”
“Documents. Old junk.”
“Why would you know about them?”
Stephanie sighed.
“Because this is my house.”
There it was.
That phrase again.
My house.
I wanted to scream.
Instead, I asked quietly,
“Do you remember what Dad told you before he died?”
She froze.
Just for half a second.
Then her expression returned.
“He loved me.”
“Yes.”
“And he trusted me.”
“Did he?”
Her eyes hardened.
“You've been talking to Margaret.”
It wasn't a question.
“How do you know her name?”
She stepped toward me.
“Mom, go back to the motel.”
“You knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That Dad suspected you.”
Stephanie laughed.
Not nervously.
Not bitterly.
Amused.
“You really think Dad was some detective who figured everything out?”
“He left evidence.”
Her smile disappeared.
“What evidence?”
I suddenly realized my mistake.
I had told her too much.
So I said nothing.
She watched me.
Then her eyes dropped to my pocket.
My heart jumped.
“You took something.”
“No.”
“Give it to me.”
I stepped backward.
“No.”
She lunged.
I moved toward the door.
She grabbed my arm.
“Mom!”
I pulled away.
She stumbled.
For one second, neither of us spoke.
Then I said the sentence I had been too afraid to say for years.
“You're not getting another dollar from me.”
Her face changed.
Not anger.
Fear.
Real fear.
That was when I knew I was close to something important.
“You don't understand,” she whispered.
“I understand enough.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“You don't.”
She looked at the door.
Then back at me.
“If you go to the police, they'll arrest David.”
“That isn't my problem.”
“It will be.”
“Why?”
She didn't answer.
“Why, Stephanie?”
She pressed her palms against her face.
“You think this is about the house.”
“Isn't it?”
“No.”
She looked at me.
“This started before the house.”
My heart pounded.
“What started?”
She didn't answer.
I walked toward her.
“Tell me.”
She shook her head.
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because they will kill me.”
I froze.
“Who?”
She whispered one word.
“Thomas.”
The man from the photograph.
“Who is Thomas?”
“He works for people who don't like losing money.”
“What money?”
She looked at me.
“Your money.”
The room seemed to tilt.
I stepped closer.
“What did you do?”
She began crying.
For the first time in years, she looked like my little girl again.
But I no longer knew whether the tears were real.
“I didn't mean for Dad to die,” she whispered.
My entire body went cold.
“What?”
“I didn't know what they were going to do.”
“Stephanie…”
She covered her mouth.
“I didn't know.”
“What did they do to him?”
She didn't answer.
I grabbed her shoulders.
“What did they do to your father?”
She looked directly into my eyes.
“I don't know whether they killed him.”
My knees nearly gave out.
“His heart attack…”
“They said it was natural.”
“Who said?”
“David.”
I stepped backward.
“David told you?”
“Yes.”
“What happened that night?”
Stephanie started shaking.
“Dad had found the account.”
“What account?”
“The one you don't know about.”
“What was in it?”
She looked toward the basement.
“Everything.”
“Everything what?”
She whispered,
“Everything he had been hiding from them.”
I felt dizzy.
Then my phone vibrated.
I pulled it from my pocket.
One new message.
Unknown number.
It contained a photograph.
My heart stopped.
It was a picture of me leaving the motel.
The message beneath it had only eight words.
Stop looking, or your daughter's next secret dies.
I stared at Stephanie.
She saw my face.
“What happened?”
I turned the phone toward her.
She read the message.
Then she began screaming.
Not at me.
At the empty room.
“They found us.”
She grabbed my wrist.
“Mom, you have to run.”
“Where?”
“Anywhere.”
“Why?”
She looked toward the windows.
“They're already here.”
A car door slammed outside.
Then another.
I pulled back the curtain.
Three black vehicles were parked across the street.
Men in dark jackets stepped out.
Stephanie whispered,
“Thomas found us.”
Then someone knocked on the front door.
Three slow knocks.
And a voice called from outside.
“Margaret?”
May you like
I recognized the voice.
It was David.
