Chapter 4 - The Man in the CellarDaniel's house stood behind iron gates on the edge of Lincoln Park.
Claire expected luxury.
She found something colder.
The mansion looked less like a home and more like a fortress.
Security cameras watched every entrance.
Men stood outside in black suits.
Every window was reinforced.
Emma, however, loved it.
“Do you live here?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have a Christmas tree?”
Daniel paused.
“No.”
Emma frowned.
“Why?”
Daniel looked away.
“Never had one.”
Emma considered this for a moment.
“That's sad.”
Claire almost smiled.
Daniel didn't.
But later that night, Claire found him standing alone in the living room, staring at an empty corner.
“Emma thinks you're sad.”
Daniel didn't turn.
“She notices things.”
“She does.”
“She noticed you crying.”
Daniel finally looked at her.
“I haven't cried since my mother died.”
“What happened to her?”
“My father blamed me.”
Claire frowned.
“How could he?”
“He said I should have protected her.”
“That wasn't your fault.”
“I was sixteen.”
Claire's expression softened.
“You were a child.”
Daniel looked toward the window.
“That's not how my father saw me.”
Silence.
Then a heavy door opened somewhere downstairs.
Daniel's entire posture changed.
“Stay here.”
Claire followed anyway.
They descended a staircase into the basement.
Daniel opened a steel door.
Inside was an office.
Files covered the walls.
Photographs.
Maps.
Financial records.
Names.
One name appeared repeatedly.
Michael Bennett.
Claire stared.
“You've been investigating my husband.”
“For eight months.”
“Why?”
“Because before he died, Michael tried to contact me.”
Claire's breath caught.
“What?”
“He sent one message.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I couldn't verify it.”
“What did it say?”
Daniel opened a locked drawer.
Inside was a phone.
Old.
Cracked.
He handed it to Claire.
On the screen was one saved message.
A recording.
Michael's voice filled the room.
“Daniel, if you're hearing this, I'm probably dead.”
Claire covered her mouth.
Michael continued.
“Don't trust Keegan. Don't trust your father. And don't let them find the girl.”
The recording ended.
Claire's knees nearly gave way.
Daniel caught her.
“My father?”
“Yes.”
“Why would Michael mention your father?”
“I don't know.”
A noise came from the dark corridor.
Daniel drew his gun.
He moved toward it.
“Who's there?”
Nothing.
Then a man's voice answered.
“Daniel.”
Daniel froze.
The voice came from behind the steel door.
A voice he hadn't heard in eleven years.
His brother.
Ethan.
Claire looked at him.
“That's your brother?”
Daniel stared at the door.
“Ethan?”
A laugh came from the darkness.
“Still protecting strangers, little brother?”
Daniel unlocked the door.
The corridor was empty.
Except for a bloodstained coat hanging from a hook.
Pinned to it was a note.
Daniel pulled it free.
Four words.
Christmas will finish it.
Claire whispered:
“Who is Ethan?”
Daniel folded the note.
“The man who was supposed to be dead.”
From upstairs came a scream.
Emma.
Daniel ran.
Claire followed.
They reached the living room.
Emma was standing beside the Christmas tree.
A tall man stood behind her.
Dark coat.
Scar across his cheek.
Older.
Familiar.
Daniel stopped breathing.
Ethan smiled.
“Merry Christmas, little brother.”
Emma looked up at him.
“Are you Daniel's uncle?”
Ethan smiled.
“Yes.”
Daniel raised his gun.
“Step away from her.”
Ethan laughed.
“You still don't understand.”
He looked at Emma.
Then at Claire.
“She's not Michael's secret.”
May you like
He pointed at Emma.
“She is the secret.”
