Chapter 4: The Box Under the Floor
The box was older than I expected.
That was the first thing I noticed.
It wasn't new.
It wasn't something Vanessa had recently hidden.
It was covered in dust.
The police found it beneath a loose section of flooring in the same renovation room where she trapped me.
When my father brought it to the hospital, he wouldn't open it.
He just stared at it.
Like he was afraid of what was inside.
"Why does it have Mom's name?"" I asked.
He didn't answer.
I touched the faded handwriting.
It was my mother's.
I knew instantly.
She wrote that.
My fingers started shaking.
"Open it.""
My father sat beside me.
Together, we lifted the lid.
Inside were photographs.
Letters.
And a small notebook.
The first letter was addressed to my father.
Daniel.
My hands froze.
"She wrote to you?""
He nodded slowly.
"I didn't know this existed.""
I opened it.
My mother's handwriting filled the page.
Daniel,
If anything happens to me, I need you to remember one thing.
Lily is not a burden.
She is the best thing that ever happened to us.
I looked at my father.
He closed his eyes.
More tears appeared.
The next pages were about Vanessa.
My stomach tightened.
My mother had known her.
Years before.
Not as family.
As someone from her past.
The notebook explained everything.
Vanessa had worked with my mother at a design company.
They were friends.
Until Vanessa became obsessed with the life my mother had.
The husband.
The home.
The family.
My mother had written:
"I worry Vanessa doesn't want friendship. I worry she wants my place.""
I stopped reading.
My father looked destroyed.
"She knew.""
I whispered.
"Mom knew.""
He nodded.
But there was more.
A final letter.
One that my mother never sent.
Daniel,
If Vanessa ever enters Lily's life again, please be careful.
She is charming when people are watching.
But she becomes someone else when the room is empty.
I couldn't breathe.
My father looked at me.
"I should have listened.""
The guilt in his eyes hurt.
But before I could say anything, the police officer returned.
He looked uncomfortable.
"There is something else.""
My father stood.
"What?""
The officer held a folder.
"We searched Vanessa's belongings.""
"And?""
"She had been planning this longer than we thought.""
He opened the folder.
Inside were printed documents.
Photos.
Notes.
My name appeared on several pages.
I felt sick.
"She was collecting information about Lily," the officer said.
"Her school schedule. Her friends. Her routines.""
My father clenched his jaw.
"Why?""
The officer hesitated.
"Because she wanted to prove Lily was unstable.""
I couldn't believe it.
She wasn't just trying to hurt me.
She was trying to make people believe I deserved it.
That night, I couldn't sleep.
Every sound reminded me of the wall.
The darkness.
Her voice.
Around midnight, my father came in.
He sat beside me.
"I made a mistake.""
I looked at him.
"I trusted the wrong person.""
I held my blanket tighter.
"Dad?""
"Yes?""
"Did Mom really know Vanessa?""
He looked down.
"Yes.""
"Why didn't you tell me?""
He was quiet.
Then he said:
"Because Vanessa told me your mother hated her.""
I stared.
"What?""
My father looked confused.
"She said your mother blamed her for things.""
I felt a chill.
Because now everything made sense.
Vanessa had been rewriting the past for years.
She had been controlling the story.
Until I survived.
Until my recording exposed her.
My father picked up his phone.
A message had arrived.
He read it.
Then his face went pale.
"What?""
He turned the phone toward me.
It was from an unknown number.
One sentence.
One name.
May you like
One warning.
"Ask Vanessa who really built that wall.""