Chapter 10 - 1998
Robert refused to speak until the police left.
Then he locked every door.
Closed every blind.
And poured himself a glass of whiskey.
Emily sat across from him.
Noah was upstairs with headphones, watching a movie.
At least that was what Emily hoped.
“What happened in 1998?”
Robert stared into the glass.
“Your mother was still alive.”
Emily’s stomach tightened.
Susan Carter had died from cancer when Emily was seventeen.
Daniel had been twenty-two.
Steven had been thirty-three.
Robert continued.
“Steven had a business.”
“I remember.”
“Construction supply.”
“He lost it.”
Robert nodded.
“But before he lost it, he borrowed money.”
“From you?”
“From several people.”
“What people?”
Robert stared into the whiskey.
“Not banks.”
Emily understood.
“How much?”
“A lot.”
“Dad.”
“Nearly four hundred thousand.”
Emily whispered, “Jesus.”
“He said he could repay it.”
“He couldn’t.”
“No.”
“What happened?”
Robert’s voice became quiet.
“A man came to our house.”
Emily remembered nothing.
She had been four.
Daniel had been nine.
“What man?”
“His name was Vincent Hale.”
Emily frowned.
She didn’t know it.
Robert continued.
“He financed businesses. Loans. Gambling. Whatever made money.”
“Organized crime?”
Robert looked away.
“That’s what police believed later.”
“What did Steven do?”
“He used our address on documents.”
Emily stared.
“Your address?”
“Our house.”
“Why?”
“He needed collateral.”
Emily felt cold.
“What collateral?”
Robert said nothing.
Then she understood.
“The house?”
Robert nodded.
“Without Mom knowing?”
“Yes.”
“And you knew?”
“Eventually.”
Emily stared at him.
“How?”
“I signed something.”
“You signed?”
Robert’s eyes filled with shame.
“He said it was temporary.”
Emily stood.
Her knee screamed.
She barely noticed.
“You helped Steven use our family home as collateral for criminal debt?”
“I didn’t understand what it was.”
“You were thirty-four!”
“I trusted my brother.”
Emily laughed bitterly.
“Of course you did.”
Robert looked wounded.
“Emily.”
“What happened?”
“Your mother found out.”
Emily froze.
“What did she do?”
“She threatened to go to the police.”
The room became very quiet.
Robert continued.
“Two nights later, someone broke into the house.”
Emily remembered a childhood image.
A broken kitchen window.
Police lights.
Susan crying.
Daniel holding Emily upstairs.
“You told us it was burglary.”
“It was meant to look like one.”
Emily sat back down.
“What happened?”
“They wanted documents.”
“Did they get them?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Your mother hid them.”
“Where?”
“I never knew.”
Emily stared at him.
“She died without telling you?”
“She told Daniel.”
Emily stopped breathing.
“What?”
Robert closed his eyes.
“She told Daniel where the papers were.”
“How old was he?”
“Fourteen when she finally explained it.”
“And Daniel has known since then?”
“Yes.”
Emily felt betrayed.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“You were younger.”
“I’m thirty-two.”
“It became easier not to.”
Emily shook her head.
“What do those documents have to do with now?”
Robert took another drink.
“Steven thinks Daniel still has them.”
“And does he?”
“I don’t know.”
Emily remembered Steven outside.
Give me the drive.
Daniel is involved.
“What are the documents?”
Robert whispered, “Ledgers.”
“Of what?”
“Loans. Payments. Names.”
Emily felt cold.
“Vincent Hale’s operation.”
Robert nodded.
“Your mother accidentally found records Steven was holding.”
“Why didn’t she turn them over?”
“She planned to.”
“What stopped her?”
Robert’s silence was unbearable.
Emily whispered, “Mom got sick.”
“Yes.”
“But there were years between 1998 and her diagnosis.”
Robert looked at her.
“Because someone threatened Daniel.”
Emily stared.
“He was a child.”
“That was the point.”
The old family dynamic suddenly made terrible sense.
Robert’s obsession with keeping peace.
Daniel’s constant responsibility.
Steven’s repeated forgiveness.
Susan’s anxiety.
The family had been living around an old threat for decades.
“And now?”
Robert shook his head.
“I thought it ended.”
“Until Steven came back.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
Emily thought of the cash.
Two hundred thousand.
“Maybe Hale’s organization still exists.”
Robert looked terrified.
“Vincent died years ago.”
“Organizations don’t always die with people.”
Robert’s phone buzzed.
A message.
He looked at it.
His face changed.
“What?”
Robert turned the screen.
Unknown number.
One sentence.
THE BOY SAW TOO MUCH.
Emily’s blood went cold.
She ran upstairs.
“Noah!”
His bedroom door was open.
Empty.
May you like
The window stood raised.
And the screen had been cut.
