Chapter 6 - The Voice That Should Not Exist
Margaret could not speak.
Arthur stepped closer.
Emily stared at her mother.
The man on the phone said nothing else.
Margaret whispered, “Daniel?”
A pause.
Then the line went dead.
She stared at the screen.
Arthur immediately asked, “Number?”
“Blocked.”
“Did he say anything else?”
Margaret barely heard him.
She was twenty-eight again.
Daniel arriving at her kitchen door soaked from rain.
His fingers shaking around a coffee cup.
His voice low.
If anything happens to me, don’t believe Dad.
She had told him he was being dramatic.
She had told him to go home.
Six days later, the police called.
Margaret sat on the basement step.
Emily crouched beside her.
“Mom.”
Margaret handed Arthur the phone.
“Find him.”
Arthur nodded.
Keene was already calling their security investigator.
Margaret looked at the photograph again.
Daniel’s face.
Alive.
Months after she buried him.
Anger slowly replaced shock.
“He knew I opened the wall.”
Arthur looked up from the phone.
“What?”
“The caller.”
She pointed toward the safe.
“He said I finally opened Thomas’s wall.”
Emily understood.
“That means someone is watching the house.”
Arthur looked toward the basement window.
“Or Ryan told someone.”
Margaret’s attention sharpened.
Ryan had tried to break into the safe.
Why?
Who told him it existed?
Upstairs, Ava screamed.
Emily bolted.
Margaret followed.
They found Ava in the hallway.
Noah stood beside her.
The front door was open.
A man was outside.
Ryan.
He had one hand braced against the doorframe.
Ava was crying.
Emily rushed forward.
“What happened?”
Ryan pointed at Ava.
“Your daughter kicked me.”
Ava shouted, “He grabbed Noah!”
Margaret stepped between them.
“Leave.”
Ryan looked at her.
“I came for my children.”
Emily’s face hardened.
“They’re staying with me.”
“Not your decision.”
“It is absolutely my decision.”
Ryan smiled.
Then he looked at Margaret.
“Enjoying your little victory?”
Margaret said nothing.
“You changed the locks.”
“Yes.”
“You froze money.”
“Yes.”
“You embarrassed me.”
Margaret stepped closer.
“You threw me into the snow.”
Ryan laughed.
“Oh, come on. You were outside for twenty minutes.”
Emily stared at him.
“You knew?”
“Knew what?”
“That Mom didn’t have anywhere to go.”
Ryan shrugged.
“She has friends.”
Margaret studied his face.
“Who told you about the basement safe?”
Ryan’s smile disappeared.
Emily looked at him.
He recovered quickly.
“What safe?”
“You moved the wine racks.”
“I was checking for water damage.”
“Behind concrete?”
He said nothing.
Margaret continued.
“You tried to pry open a steel door.”
Ryan’s eyes flicked toward the basement hallway.
That tiny movement confirmed everything.
Margaret lowered her voice.
“What were you looking for?”
Ryan scoffed.
“You’re losing it.”
“Was it Daniel?”
Ryan’s expression changed.
Only for a fraction of a second.
But Margaret saw.
Arthur entered behind them.
He saw it too.
Ryan looked toward him.
“What are you doing here?”
Arthur replied, “Protecting my client.”
“From her family?”
“From you.”
Ryan laughed.
Then he looked at Margaret.
“You should be careful with old stories.”
Margaret’s blood turned cold.
“What does that mean?”
He smiled.
“You think your husband was some saint?”
“Leave.”
“You haven’t even asked Emily what Thomas left her.”
Margaret turned.
Emily looked confused.
“What?”
Ryan walked backward toward the snow.
“Ask your daughter about the letter she’s been hiding for eight years.”
Then he left.
Margaret slowly faced Emily.
“What letter?”
Emily looked terrified.
“Mom…”
Arthur closed the door.
Margaret waited.
Emily’s shoulders sagged.
“Grandpa gave me something before he died.”
“What?”
“A letter.”
“When?”
“Three days before he went into hospice.”
Margaret stared.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“He made me promise.”
Margaret laughed once, bitterly.
“Apparently your grandfather loved promises.”
Emily winced.
“Where is it?”
“In a safe-deposit box.”
“Why?”
“Because he told me never to keep it inside the house.”
Arthur looked sharply at her.
“What did the letter say?”
Emily swallowed.
“It said that one day someone might try to convince me Mom was mentally incompetent.”
Margaret froze.
Emily continued.
“He said I should never sign anything giving control of this house to anyone.”
The room became silent.
Margaret looked at her daughter.
“And you signed Ryan’s papers anyway.”
Emily started crying.
“I didn’t know what they were.”
“Did you read Grandpa’s letter?”
“Yes.”
“Then why?”
“Because Ryan told me the paperwork was about repairs.”
Margaret looked away.
Emily stepped closer.
“There was more.”
Margaret turned back.
“What?”
“Grandpa said if anybody ever asked about the basement, I was supposed to call Arthur.”
Arthur frowned.
Emily continued.
“And if Arthur couldn’t remember December 17, 1999…”
She stopped.
Arthur’s face tightened.
“What?”
Emily looked at him.
“Grandpa wrote that I should take you to a doctor named Helen Royce.”
Arthur whispered the name.
Margaret saw recognition.
“Who is she?”
Arthur looked sick.
“A neurologist.”
“Do you know her?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
May you like
Arthur gripped the back of a chair.
“She treated me after my car crash.”
