Chapter 2: The Note Under My Mattress
My dad read the note three times.
The first time, his eyes moved quickly.
The second time, slower.
The third time, he stopped at one sentence and just stared.
I had never seen my father look afraid before.
Not when Mom was sick.
Not when doctors gave us bad news.
Not even when he stood beside me at her funeral.
But that night, sitting on my bedroom floor, holding a piece of paper, he looked terrified.
“Where did you get this?”” he asked.
His voice was quiet.
Too quiet.
I hugged my knees.
“I found it two weeks ago.””
“Two weeks?””
I looked away.
“I didn’t know what to do.””
Dad folded the paper carefully.
“Emily, you should have shown me.””
“I tried.””
His expression softened.
“When?””
I hesitated.
“After dinner last Friday.””
He remembered.
That night, Vanessa had interrupted me before I could say anything.
“Emily is always trying to create problems,” she had told him.
And my dad, exhausted from work, had replied:
“Can we talk about this tomorrow?””
Tomorrow never came.
I looked at him now.
“She always makes me feel like nobody will believe me.””
Dad closed his eyes.
That hurt him.
I could see it.
“What exactly happened when you found this?””
I took a deep breath.
“It was in her desk drawer.””
I remembered the moment clearly.
Vanessa had left her bedroom door open while she went downstairs. I was looking for a charger because mine had stopped working.
I wasn’t trying to snoop.
At least, that was what I told myself.
But then I saw my name.
Written on an envelope.
Emily.
I should have walked away.
Instead, I opened it.
Inside was a handwritten note.
The words still haunted me.
Dad looked at the page again.
“Did she write this?””
I nodded.
The note said:
“Once Emily leaves for college, everything will finally belong to Lucas.””
That sentence alone had confused me.
But the rest was worse.
Vanessa had written about selling my mother’s jewelry.
She had written about changing the house.
She had written about making sure my dad stopped “letting Emily control him with guilt.””
Dad’s hand tightened around the paper.
“She wrote that?””
I whispered:
“There was more.””
He looked at me.
“What more?””
Before I could answer, we heard footsteps outside.
Both of us turned.
The door handle moved.
“Dad?””
It was Vanessa.
My father immediately folded the note.
“Come in.””
She opened the door and smiled.
“What are you two doing?””
I watched her carefully.
She was calm.
Too calm.
Dad stood up.
“Just talking.””
Vanessa looked between us.
Then her eyes landed on me.
A tiny smile appeared.
The same smile she used whenever she knew something I didn’t.
“About what?””
“School,” Dad said.
“Really?””
Her eyes stayed on me.
“Because Emily has been acting strange lately.””
My stomach dropped.
Dad noticed.
“What do you mean?””
Vanessa walked into the room.
“She’s been distant. Moody. I think she’s struggling.””
I almost laughed.
She was turning it around.
Again.
“I’m fine,” I said.
Vanessa looked at my father.
“See? Defensive.””
Dad’s face hardened.
“Vanessa.””
Something in his tone made her stop.
“What?””
“Leave us alone.””
Her smile disappeared.
For a second, I saw anger.
Real anger.
Then it vanished.
“Of course.””
She walked out.
But before closing the door, she looked directly at me.
And I knew.
She knew something had changed.
The next morning, everything felt different.
Dad didn’t leave for work as early.
He watched Vanessa more closely.
At breakfast, when Lucas grabbed the last two pieces of bacon, Dad said:
“Leave one for Emily.””
Lucas looked surprised.
“Mom said she doesn’t like bacon.””
I stared at Vanessa.
She smiled.
“I must have misunderstood.””
Dad didn’t smile back.
After breakfast, he asked Vanessa to talk privately.
I stayed upstairs, but I could hear raised voices.
“You went through my things?”” Vanessa shouted.
“I asked you a question.””
“You don’t trust me?””
“That’s not what I said.””
“You’re choosing your daughter over your wife?””
Silence.
Then Vanessa said something that made my blood run cold.
“You have no idea what that girl is capable of.””
I opened my bedroom door slightly.
My dad answered:
“Don’t talk about my daughter like that.””
The house went quiet.
Then Vanessa walked upstairs.
She stopped outside my door.
I held my breath.
She didn’t knock.
She just whispered:
“You should have stayed quiet.””
My blood turned cold.
Because I realized something.
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The note wasn’t the only secret in that house.
And Vanessa knew I had found it.