Chapter 2 - Someone Was Still InsideI couldn't move.
The bedroom door opened another inch.
Then another.
The hallway light spilled across the carpet.
I grabbed the heavy brass umbrella stand beside the console table and held it with both hands.
“Who's there?”
My voice shook.
No answer.
I took one step.
Then another.
The floorboard beneath my bare foot creaked.
The bedroom door stopped moving.
For three seconds, nothing happened.
Then a man's voice came from inside.
“Emma?”
I almost dropped the umbrella stand.
It was Robert.
My mother's attorney.
He stepped into the hallway with both hands raised.
“Jesus, Emma,” he whispered. “Put that thing down.”
I stared at him.
“What are you doing in my house?”
Robert glanced toward the office.
“I came because Daniel called me.”
My grip tightened.
“When?”
“About twenty minutes ago.”
“He told you to come here?”
Robert nodded.
“He said you were in danger.”
I laughed once.
It sounded wrong.
“Daniel said that?”
“Yes.”
“The same Daniel who just left?”
Robert's expression changed.
“He left?”
I pulled out my phone and showed him the recording.
Robert watched in silence.
By the time Daniel opened the safe on screen, the color had drained from Robert's face.
When the black USB appeared, Robert grabbed my wrist.
“Stop.”
“What?”
“Don't play any more.”
I stared at him.
“You know what that is.”
Robert released my wrist slowly.
“I was afraid of this.”
My pulse began pounding.
“Afraid of what?”
He looked toward the front windows before answering.
“Your mother never told you everything.”
“My mother died.”
“I know.”
“Then stop speaking in riddles.”
Robert swallowed.
“She asked me to keep something from you until you were ready.”
“Ready for what?”
He didn't answer.
I stepped closer.
“Why was Daniel looking for her will?”
Robert's jaw tightened.
“Because of what was written in it.”
I looked toward the office.
“The beneficiary?”
Robert's eyes widened.
“Daniel said that?”
“He said my mother changed the beneficiary.”
Robert closed his eyes.
“Oh, God.”
I felt the room tilt.
“What did she change?”
Robert finally looked at me.
“You.”
“I was already the beneficiary.”
“Not of everything.”
The umbrella stand slipped from my fingers and hit the floor with a dull metallic crash.
Robert flinched.
I barely noticed.
“What does that mean?”
Robert moved toward the office.
“Show me exactly where the key was.”
“Why?”
“Because your mother wouldn't have hidden that key unless she was hiding more than a document.”
We walked into the office.
The room smelled faintly of my mother's lavender perfume.
I hadn't noticed it before.
Now it made my chest ache.
Robert stood beside the bookshelf.
“You said Daniel knew about this key?”
“I said he shouldn't have.”
Robert studied the photograph of my mother.
“Did you ever show him this?”
“No.”
“Did he ever come in here alone?”
“Sometimes.”
“That isn't what I asked.”
I looked at him.
Robert's voice softened.
“Did he ever come in here without you knowing?”
I thought back.
A dinner party six months earlier.
Daniel had disappeared upstairs for almost fifteen minutes.
I had assumed he was taking a business call.
Another time, after my mother died, I had come home early from work and found the office door unlocked.
Daniel said he'd been looking for a tax document.
I hadn't questioned him.
Now those memories felt poisonous.
“I don't know,” I whispered.
Robert opened the cabinet beneath the desk.
“The safe.”
I nodded.
He crouched.
“Do you know the combination?”
“No.”
“Then Daniel couldn't have opened it.”
“He had the key.”
Robert looked at me.
“The key only turns the outer lock.”
My stomach dropped.
“What?”
“The safe has a second mechanism.”
I stared at him.
“But I saw him open it.”
Robert reached inside and pointed to a small brass dial hidden behind the cabinet trim.
“There.”
I frowned.
“I've never seen that.”
“Your mother designed this herself.”
“How would Daniel know the combination?”
Robert's face went pale.
“That's exactly what I was hoping you would never have to ask.”
A sound came from outside.
Gravel.
Tires.
Robert immediately stood.
“Lights off.”
“What?”
“Now.”
I switched off the lamp.
We stood in darkness.
A car rolled slowly past the front gate.
Then stopped.
Neither of us breathed.
Headlights swept across the curtains.
Once.
Twice.
Then the car continued down the road.
Robert remained motionless.
“Was that him?”
“No,” he whispered.
“How do you know?”
“Daniel drives a black sedan.”
“So?”
“That was a gray SUV.”
The room seemed to get colder.
My phone vibrated again.
A text message.
Unknown number.
I opened it.
You should have let him leave.
I stared at the screen.
Another message appeared.
Now you know where the safe is.
Robert took the phone from my hand.
“Don't reply.”
“Who is this?”
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“I am not.”
“You know something.”
Robert looked at me.
Then he said quietly, “Your mother received messages like this.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
“Three weeks before she died.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because she made me promise.”
“What kind of messages?”
Robert hesitated.
“Warnings.”
“From who?”
“We never found out.”
I sank into the chair behind my desk.
“My mother was afraid.”
“Yes.”
“And Daniel knew?”
Robert didn't answer.
That answer was enough.
I looked at the empty space where the envelope had been.
“Did my mother know about him?”
Robert's eyes lowered.
“She suspected.”
“Saw what?”
“That Daniel wasn't who he claimed to be.”
The words landed harder than a slap.
I shook my head.
“No.”
“Emma—”
“No. Daniel loved me.”
Robert was quiet.
“He may have.”
I looked up sharply.
“What does that mean?”
“It means someone can love you and still lie to you.”
My phone vibrated again.
This time, it was not a text.
It was a photograph.
I opened it.
My breath caught.
It was a picture of me asleep in my own bedroom.
Taken from inside the house.
The caption underneath said:
You are not alone.
I stood so fast the chair rolled backward.
“Someone has been inside my house.”
Robert grabbed his coat.
“We need to leave.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“Emma.”
“My mother's will is gone.”
“Yes.”
“The USB is gone.”
“Yes.”
“And someone is watching me.”
“Yes.”
I looked at the safe.
“Then I need to know what they are so afraid of.”
Robert stepped in front of me.
“Your mother spent the last month of her life trying to protect you from the truth.”
“What truth?”
He hesitated.
Then his phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
His face changed instantly.
“Who is it?”
Robert answered.
“Hello?”
A distorted voice spoke from the other end.
Robert went completely still.
I could hear only a few broken words.
Then Robert's hand began to shake.
He slowly lowered the phone.
“What did they say?”
He looked directly at me.
“They said Daniel didn't steal your mother's will.”
My skin prickled.
“Then what did he steal?”
Robert swallowed.
“The proof that you were never supposed to be his wife.”
My phone buzzed again.
One final message appeared.
Ask Robert what happened seven years ago.
I looked at him.
He looked at me.
May you like
And for the first time since my mother died, Robert said the words I had spent years believing were impossible.
“Emma, your mother knew Daniel long before you did.”
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