Chapter 9 - Beneath the Christmas TreeWe entered my parents' house under police supervision.
The front door still had the Christmas wreath.
The same one I'd admired the night before.
Now it looked grotesque.
The house smelled like cinnamon.
The fireplace was still burning.
Everything was almost perfectly normal.
That was the terrifying part.
Officer Harris searched the downstairs rooms first.
Nothing.
The garage was empty.
The side door was locked.
The basement door was hidden behind a shelving unit.
My father gave us the silver key.
It opened the basement lock.
The stairs creaked.
A single bulb flickered overhead.
I descended slowly.
At the bottom was a room I had never seen.
Not because it hadn't existed.
Because the door had always been covered.
There were filing cabinets.
Boxes.
Photographs.
Dozens of them.
Ava.
Age six.
Ava at school.
Lily as a baby.
Daniel leaving work.
Me getting into my car.
I stared at the wall.
"They've been watching us."
Officer Harris pulled down another photograph.
It showed my family at Thanksgiving.
Taken from outside the window.
My stomach turned.
"What is this?"
My father didn't answer.
I opened a cabinet.
Inside were medical records.
Hospital records.
School records.
Copies of our passports.
Bank statements.
Flight information.
Everything.
My life had been archived.
Then I found a folder with my name.
Inside was the original birth certificate.
Victor Hale was listed as my father.
Underneath it was a hospital photograph from the day I was born.
Victor was standing outside the nursery.
Alive.
Watching me through the glass.
A handwritten note was attached.
If anything happens to me, the child becomes leverage.
I read it twice.
"Leverage for what?"
My father finally spoke.
"Money."
"For whom?"
"Victor's enemies."
He sat down.
"Your mother made a deal."
"What deal?"
"She agreed to hide financial records in exchange for keeping you alive."
I felt sick.
"What records?"
He pointed toward a locked cabinet.
"The box."
The same box he'd given Victor.
Officer Harris opened the cabinet.
Inside was a single encrypted drive.
Daniel stared at it.
"That's what they wanted."
A sound came from upstairs.
Everyone froze.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Heavy.
Officer Harris reached for his weapon.
My father whispered:
"She's here."
"Who?"
"My wife."
We heard the basement door close.
Then the lock turned.
Someone had locked us in.
The light went out.
Lily's face flashed through my mind.
Then the three-year-old voice in the hospital.
Mommy.
Mommy.
Mommy.
Daniel grabbed my hand in the darkness.
"Don't move."
A metallic sound came from the staircase.
Then my mother's voice.
Calm.
Almost gentle.
May you like
"You should have let the girls die."
My heart stopped.
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