Chapter 6 - Three KnocksThe knocking came again.
Three times.
Slow.
Deliberate.
My husband moved toward the door.
“Don’t,” Evelyn said.
He stopped.
“Why?”
“Because if that is Noah, he wants us frightened.”
“And if it isn’t?”
Evelyn looked at my mother.
“Then we are already in trouble.”
I stepped forward.
My mother grabbed my arm.
“Please.”
It was the first time in my life she had said that to me without anger.
“Please don’t open it.”
“Why?”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Because the last time that door knocked like that, your father answered.”
I stared at her.
“What happened?”
“He never told me.”
That answer frightened me more than anything else.
I opened the door.
The hallway was empty.
Only a small package sat on the floor.
No name.
No address.
Inside was a flash drive.
And a photograph.
My father.
Standing in front of an unfamiliar building.
Beside him was a younger man.
Noah.
On the back of the photograph were three words:
HE CAME BACK.
Michael closed the door.
Royce took the flash drive.
“We shouldn’t open this here.”
“Why?”
“Because we don’t know what’s on it.”
“I do.”
Everyone turned to me.
“What?”
“My father.”
I plugged the drive into my laptop.
One folder appeared.
ROBERT.
Inside were twelve video files.
The first was dated ten months before his death.
My father appeared on screen.
He looked tired.
Older.
But clear-eyed.
“If you are watching this,” he said, “then my attempts to protect my family have failed.”
Sage covered her mouth.
My father continued.
“Your grandmother has been taking money from the trust.”
My mother looked down.
“I knew.”
“We need to stop pretending this is only about money.”
He leaned closer to the camera.
“It is about control.”
The video ended.
The second began automatically.
My father sat in his office.
A stack of bank records lay before him.
“Dana received payments labeled as tuition assistance.”
Dana whispered, “No.”
“It wasn’t tuition.”
Another cut.
“Your mother used family assets to purchase property.”
Another.
“She changed beneficiaries without authorization.”
Then my father looked directly into the camera.
“And she lied about Noah.”
The screen went black.
My mother stood.
“I’m done.”
She walked toward the door.
I stepped in front of her.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
She slapped me.
The room froze.
My mother looked at her own hand.
Then at me.
“I’m sorry.”
I touched my cheek.
“That was the first honest thing you’ve done tonight.”
Evelyn closed the laptop.
“Enough.”
She looked at all of us.
“There is one more file.”
She opened it.
A scanned document appeared.
A medical report.
My father’s.
Then a handwritten note.
I recognized the handwriting.
Not his.
My mother’s.
It read:
STOP ASKING ABOUT NOAH OR YOU WILL LOSE EVERYTHING.
My stomach turned.
“Did you write that?”
My mother started crying.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he was getting too close.”
“To what?”
She looked at Sage.
Then at me.
“The fire.”
My body went cold.
“What fire?”
My mother swallowed.
“The fire that killed your grandfather.”
I stared at her.
“You told everyone it was an accident.”
“It wasn’t.”
My husband whispered, “What are you saying?”
She looked toward the window.
“I didn’t start it.”
Evelyn asked quietly:
“Who did?”
My mother closed her eyes.
“I don’t know.”
Then the lights went out.
The room plunged into darkness.
Sage screamed.
Michael pulled her close.
A second later, every phone in the room buzzed at once.
One message.
From an unknown number.
I unlocked mine.
May you like
The message contained only five words:
ASK HER WHO LIT THE MATCH.
