Chapter 7: The Daughter Who Was Never Buried
“Mommy?””
The tiny hand tightened around Denise's wrist.
“Why did you keep her?””
Denise screamed and pulled backward.
Marcus grabbed her shoulders, but something inside the trunk held on.
Jordan swung the flashlight toward the floor.
The beam flickered once.
Then it illuminated a small pale face emerging from beneath the photographs.
A little girl.
Dark curls.
Round cheeks.
And a silver bracelet identical to Maya's.
Denise stared at her.
“Hannah?””
The girl smiled.
“You remembered.””
Marcus grabbed the wooden lid and tried to slam it shut.
But the hand refused to let go.
The trunk shook violently.
Photographs flew into the air, scattering across the attic floor.
One landed beside Maya's foot.
She picked it up.
It showed Denise in a hospital bed, holding two newborn babies.
Marcus stood beside her, smiling.
But something was wrong.
There was a handwritten note on the back.
*OCTOBER 14. TWO DAUGHTERS. ONE MUST REMAIN.*
Maya looked at her mother.
“Mom, why does it say that?””
Denise couldn't answer.
The hand finally released her.
The trunk slammed shut.
For several seconds, the only sound was their breathing.
Then a little girl began laughing inside the box.
Marcus backed away.
“Everybody get away from it.””
Jordan grabbed Maya's arm.
“Come on.””
But Maya didn't move.
She was staring at the photograph.
“Mom?””
Denise turned toward her.
“Sweetheart, please. We need to leave.””
“Why did you tell me I was an only child?””
Denise's face crumpled.
“I didn't know how to explain something I couldn't understand.””
“Did you know about Hannah?””
Denise nodded slowly.
“I remembered holding two babies. I remembered their little hands. But the doctors told me one of them had died before we left the hospital.””
“Then why didn't you tell me?””
“Because I thought it would hurt you.””
Maya looked down.
“I'm not hurt because I had a sister.””
She raised her eyes.
“I'm hurt because everybody decided I couldn't know she existed.””
Denise stepped toward her.
But Maya moved away.
Marcus looked at the trunk.
“Denise, we can talk about this later. We need to get out.””
A voice came from beneath the lid.
“Daddy?””
Marcus froze.
It was Hannah.
“Daddy, you promised you would come back.””
Marcus slowly turned.
The trunk began rattling.
Then the voice changed.
It became his own father's.
“Marcus, don't open it.””
Marcus looked toward the attic door.
His face tightened.
“Dad?””
The voice continued.
“You don't understand what you've done.””
Marcus stepped closer to the trunk.
Jordan grabbed his shoulder.
“Dad, that's not Grandpa.””
“I know.””
But Marcus wasn't moving away.
The voice became louder.
“You brought the key back. You brought your children here. You gave it everything it needed.””
Marcus closed his eyes.
Then he whispered:
“I didn't know.””
A deep wooden crack came from inside the trunk.
The lid lifted an inch.
A cold white light spilled through the gap.
Maya stumbled backward.
“Dad!””
Marcus grabbed the key.
He pushed it into the lock and turned it.
The lid snapped shut.
A violent thud shook the attic.
Then everything went silent.
Marcus stared at the trunk.
“What did your father mean?”” Denise asked.
Marcus swallowed.
“He told me never to bring the key back.””
“Why?””
“Because the trunk isn't a prison.””
Denise looked at him.
“What?””
Marcus's eyes moved toward the names carved into the wood.
“It's a door.””
Before anyone could respond, three knocks sounded from the other side of the attic wall.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Then a little girl's voice whispered:
“Mommy, I'm outside.””
Denise turned toward the attic door.
A small shadow appeared beneath it.
Someone was standing in the hallway.
Maya looked at her mother.
“That's not Hannah.””
Denise's breathing quickened.
“How do you know?””
Maya pointed toward the trunk.
“Because she's still in there.””
The voice outside the attic door began crying.
“Mommy, please open it.””
Denise covered her mouth.
The voice continued.
“I've been waiting so long.””
Marcus raised the flashlight.
“Don't move.””
The doorknob slowly turned.
Then came another voice.
This one sounded exactly like Maya.
“Mom, it's me. Please.””
Maya grabbed her mother's hand.
“I'm right here.””
The doorknob stopped.
Silence.
Then the voice outside whispered something that made Denise collapse against the wall.
“Mommy, you promised you would choose me.””
Marcus rushed toward her.
“Denise!””
She was crying uncontrollably.
“I remember.””
He held her shoulders.
“What do you remember?””
Denise looked at the trunk.
“When I woke up in the hospital, there were two bassinets beside my bed.””
Marcus stared.
“What?””
“I remember the nurses bringing them in. I remember holding both girls.””
She struggled to breathe.
“One had a little mark behind her left ear. The other had a tiny scar on her wrist.””
Maya touched her left ear.
“What mark?””
Denise looked at her.
“You have a small birthmark behind your ear.””
Maya slowly turned toward Jordan.
“Do I?””
He nodded.
“Yeah. You've always had it.””
Denise continued.
“But Hannah had the scar.””
She pointed toward the trunk.
“The baby inside the box.””
Maya looked down at the hospital photograph.
Then she noticed something.
The photograph showed two newborn babies.
One had a tiny scar on her wrist.
The other had a small dark mark behind her ear.
But the handwritten note beneath the photograph contained a second sentence.
*THE ONE WITH THE MARK MUST NEVER BE CALLED BY HER FIRST NAME.*
Maya's stomach tightened.
“Mom?””
Denise took the photograph.
Her lips moved silently as she read it.
Then she looked at Maya.
“What?””
Maya pointed toward the line.
“Why can't I be called by my first name?””
Denise didn't answer.
Because at that exact moment, the little girl inside the trunk began whispering.
Not Maya.
Not Hannah.
A third name.
May you like
A name nobody in the room recognized.
And the trunk began opening again.
