Chapter 4
I stared at the safe.
Black.
Heavy.
Impenetrable looking.
A digital keypad glowed faintly in the dim light from the office.
What was inside?
More money?
More secrets?
Something worse?
I reached out.
Touched the keypad.
Cold.
Smooth.
I needed the code.
But what would Ryan use?
I tried our anniversary first.
06-15-2016.
The day we got married.
The safe beeped.
Red light.
Wrong code.
I tried Noah's birthday.
03-22-2017.
Another red light.
Another beep.
I tried the combination from the desk drawer.
4-8-15-16-23-42.
Red light.
Beep.
I stepped back.
Thought.
Ryan was smart.
He wouldn't use something obvious.
Something I would guess.
But he also wouldn't use something he'd forget.
What did he care about more than anything?
More than me?
More than Noah?
I thought about the phone.
Elena.
The baby.
I tried Elena's birthday.
Wait.
I didn't know Elena's birthday.
But maybe...
Maybe I could find it.
I went back to the desk.
Pulled out the second phone.
Scrolled through the messages.
Looking for something.
Anything.
There.
"Happy birthday, my love. 28 looks amazing on you."
The date on the message was November 12th.
So Elena's birthday was November 12th.
She was 28.
I went back to the safe.
Tried 11-12.
Red light.
Beep.
Tried 11-12-98.
If she was 28 now, she'd be born in 1998.
Red light.
Beep.
I was getting frustrated.
And scared.
What if the safe had a lockout feature?
What if I tried too many times and it sealed permanently?
Or worse—what if it triggered an alarm?
I stepped back again.
Looked around the room.
There had to be a clue.
Something Ryan had left behind.
Something only he would notice.
I looked at the books on the shelf that had swung open.
They were still there.
Lined up perfectly.
Ryan's special collection.
First editions.
Each one had a small plaque on the spine with the publication year.
I looked at the books closest to the safe.
"The Old Man and the Sea." 1952.
"Of Mice and Men." 1937.
"Grapes of Wrath." 1939.
"East of Eden." 1952.
Wait.
Two books from 1952.
That was Ryan's father's birth year.
His father had died when Ryan was young.
He never talked about it.
But I knew it affected him deeply.
I tried 1-9-5-2.
Red light.
Beep.
I looked at the books again.
What order were they in?
Not alphabetical.
Not by publication date.
Ryan had a system for everything.
What if...
What if the code was hidden in the order of the books?
I counted the books on the shelf.
Ten books total.
Each with a different publication year.
I wrote them down in order:
1. 1925
2. 1937
3. 1939
4. 1949
5. 1952
6. 1960
7. 1962
8. 1984
9. 1988
10. 2003
The keypad only took four digits.
Which four?
I thought about Ryan.
What numbers were important to him?
His father's birth year was 1952.
That was the fifth book.
Five.
What else?
I thought about the messages again.
Elena was pregnant.
When was the baby due?
I scrolled through the phone.
"Doctor says due date is September 15th."
September 15th.
09-15.
But that's only four digits.
0-9-1-5.
I tried it.
Red light.
Beep.
I was running out of ideas.
And time.
What if Diane came back?
What if she caught me in here?
I thought about what Noah had said.
Diane goes in there every night after I fall asleep.
Every night.
So she must know the code too.
Or at least have access to it.
I looked around the office again.
Maybe she'd written it down somewhere.
Something only she would know to look for.
I checked the desk again.
Every drawer.
Every nook and cranny.
Nothing.
I checked the books.
One by one.
Flipping through pages.
Looking for notes.
Nothing.
I sat in Ryan's leather chair.
It smelled like him.
His cologne.
His shampoo.
The man I thought I knew.
The man I'd loved for more than a decade.
Now he was a stranger.
A monster.
I leaned forward.
Resting my elbows on the desk.
My head in my hands.
What was I going to do?
I had a son to protect.
A life to rebuild.
And a husband who was planning to take everything from me.
I opened my eyes.
Looked at the desk calendar.
It was still turned to the month Ryan left.
May.
Three months ago.
But there was something written on a date in June.
June 3rd.
In Ryan's handwriting.
Just one word.
"Remember."
Remember what?
June 3rd.
What happened on June 3rd?
I thought back.
Ryan had been acting strange that day.
Quiet.
Distant.
He'd left early for work.
Came home late.
Said he had a big meeting.
But now I wondered.
What was he really doing?
I tried 0-6-0-3.
Red light.
Beep.
I was about to give up.
To leave the safe for another day.
To go check on Noah.
To call a lawyer.
To do something.
Then I saw it.
A small sticky note on the bottom of the desk.
I'd missed it earlier.
It was barely visible.
Tucked into a corner.
I reached under.
Peeled it off.
Four numbers.
Written in Diane's handwriting.
I'd know that handwriting anywhere.
Sharp.
Precise.
Cold.
7-3-9-1.
I stared at the numbers.
What did they mean?
I didn't recognize them as any important date.
But Diane had written them.
And she'd hidden them under the desk.
Where only she would know to look.
I stood up.
Walked to the safe.
My hand was shaking as I entered the numbers.
7.
3.
9.
1.
I pressed the pound key.
The safe beeped.
Green light.
May you like
Click.
The door swung open.
