Chapter 8
Noah screamed.
Michael grabbed him.
“Everybody stay still!”
The detective switched on his flashlight.
Another officer tried the door.
“Locked.”
“From outside?”
“Yes.”
My heart pounded.
Then we smelled smoke.
Not heavy.
Not yet.
But unmistakable.
“Fire.”
The detective radioed for help.
No response.
Underground.
Thick concrete walls.
Another officer moved toward the ventilation grate.
“Smoke’s coming through here.”
Michael looked at me.
“They knew we’d come.”
I thought of Linda’s warning.
Don’t go.
Maybe she had tried to protect us.
Or maybe she knew the trap existed because she helped create it.
The officer shouted through the door.
No answer.
Noah buried his face in Michael’s shoulder.
“Dad, I’m scared.”
“I’ve got you.”
I forced myself to stay calm.
Hospital training.
Assess.
Act.
Don’t panic.
“There’s another exit.”
The detective looked at me.
“How do you know?”
“Building code. Underground commercial storage requires emergency egress.”
We searched.
Behind the shelves was a red emergency panel.
The handle didn’t move.
Chained from the other side.
“This was planned,” Michael said.
Smoke thickened.
I wrapped my jacket around Noah’s face.
“Stay low.”
One officer used a metal shelf support to strike the emergency door.
Again.
Again.
The frame bent.
Michael joined him.
I held Noah.
He coughed.
That sound drove me insane.
“Move!”
They hit it together.
The chain snapped.
Fresh air rushed in.
We climbed a narrow service staircase.
At the top, firefighters were already entering the building.
We escaped into the parking lot.
Noah vomited from fear and smoke.
Paramedics checked all of us.
The fire itself was small.
A burning trash container placed beside the storage ventilation intake.
Designed to fill our unit with smoke.
Not destroy the building.
Terrify us.
Maybe kill us if the door stayed shut long enough.
A security camera had been disabled.
But another camera across the parking lot captured a vehicle.
White Lexus.
Kate stared at the screen.
“That’s Mom’s car.”
I closed my eyes.
Michael whispered, “Jesus.”
The detective issued an alert.
Then my phone buzzed.
A video message.
Unknown number.
I opened it.
Emily appeared on screen.
She was sitting in a room with white walls.
Her eyes were red.
She looked straight into the camera.
“Sarah, I’m okay.”
Someone behind the phone whispered.
“Keep going.”
Emily swallowed.
“Grandma Linda says you need to stop looking.”
My stomach dropped.
“If you go home and forget the trust, nobody gets hurt.”
Michael cursed.
Emily’s eyes shifted slightly to the left.
Then she said, “Tell Noah I’m sorry about his red bicycle.”
I frowned.
Noah’s bicycle was blue.
Emily continued.
“And tell Aunt Kate the yellow flowers are pretty.”
Kate whispered, “I don’t have yellow flowers.”
Code.
Emily was telling us something.
Red bicycle.
Yellow flowers.
Colors.
Objects that didn’t exist.
Then she blinked deliberately.
Three times.
Paused.
Two times.
The knocking code Noah had described earlier.
Three knocks.
Pause.
Two.
I replayed it.
“What does three-two mean?”
Michael’s face changed.
“Rebecca used that when we were kids.”
“What?”
“Our grandfather’s cabin.”
My pulse jumped.
“Where?”
“Lake Travis.”
The detective heard us.
“Address.”
Michael gave it.
Officers moved immediately.
But I noticed something else in the video.
A window behind Emily.
Outside was a tall red-and-white radio tower.
I showed the detective.
He compared satellite images.
“The cabin isn’t near a radio tower.”
Michael frowned.
“Then she’s somewhere else.”
“What did three-two mean?”
He thought.
“Not the cabin itself.”
Then he snapped his fingers.
“Cabin number.”
“What?”
“Our grandfather rented storage boat slips. Slip 32.”
The detective searched.
Marina 32 was on the east side of Lake Travis.
Near a communications tower.
They mobilized.
This time I stayed behind.
I had learned enough.
Noah needed me.
Two hours passed.
Then three.
At 4:18 a.m., the detective called.
“We found Emily.”
I started crying.
“Is she okay?”
“She’s dehydrated and frightened, but physically okay.”
“Linda?”
“Gone.”
“Rebecca?”
“We found her too.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
Michael collapsed into a chair.
“Can we see them?”
“Rebecca is being taken to the hospital. Emily is coming here.”
At dawn, a patrol car arrived.
Emily stepped out.
Fourteen years old.
Brown hair.
Thin shoulders.
Huge blue eyes.
She looked at me.
I looked at her.
Neither of us moved.
Then Noah came around my side.
Emily’s eyes filled.
“Noah.”
He frowned.
“You know me?”
She nodded.
“I’ve seen pictures.”
Noah looked at me.
“Who is she?”
I knelt beside him.
“This is Emily.”
“The girl Grandma talked about?”
“Yes.”
Emily approached slowly.
“I’m sorry about what happened.”
Noah shrugged in the strange way children do when they don’t know how to respond to adult disasters.
“Are you my sister?”
Every adult froze.
Emily looked at me.
I swallowed.
“No.”
Then I added, “We’re still figuring out exactly what everyone is.”
That made Emily laugh.
A tiny laugh.
The first normal sound of the entire night.
Michael walked toward her.
She stared at him.
“Uncle Michael?”
He broke.
He hugged her.
Emily stiffened at first.
Then wrapped her arms around him.
“I thought you were dead,” he whispered.
“I thought you hated Mom.”
“I never hated her.”
“She said that.”
Michael closed his eyes.
“Your grandmother lied to all of us.”
Emily pulled back.
“Which grandmother?”
Nobody knew whether to laugh or cry.
Later, at the hospital, I saw Rebecca.
She was thin.
Bruises marked one wrist.
She looked older than fifty-one.
But when she looked at me, her entire face changed.
“My baby.”
I stopped.
I didn’t know how to be her daughter.
I already had a mother.
Even if that mother had lied to me.
Even if that mother was running from police.
Rebecca seemed to understand.
“You don’t have to call me anything.”
I started crying.
“Why didn’t you find me?”
“I did.”
“What?”
“Every year.”
I stared at her.
“Linda sent me pictures.”
“Then why didn’t you come?”
“Because Diane knew I was alive.”
Michael stepped closer.
“How?”
“David.”
“He betrayed you?”
“No.”
She looked at him.
“David kept moving me.”
“Why?”
“Because Diane had people watching Linda.”
I sat beside her.
“What happened eight years ago?”
Rebecca closed her eyes.
“Diane tried to kill me.”
Michael went pale.
“The accident?”
“Was real.”
“But you survived.”
“Barely.”
“Who caused it?”
“Diane.”
The room went silent.
“Can you prove it?”
Rebecca nodded.
“Unit 117.”
“The red folder?”
“No.”
She looked at me.
“Box nineteen.”
I remembered the storage boxes.
Police had seized everything.
“What’s inside?”
“Recordings.”
“Of Diane?”
“And Linda.”
My stomach tightened.
“Linda too?”
Rebecca’s eyes filled.
“Your mother started as my protector.”
“Started?”
“She changed.”
“When?”
“After Noah was born.”
“Because of the trust.”
Rebecca nodded.
“She had spent her life hiding you. She convinced herself she deserved something.”
I looked away.
“What did she do?”
“She made a deal with Diane.”
“To remove me?”
“Yes.”
“And take control?”
“Yes.”
My eyes burned.
“So they both want me declared unfit.”
“Or dead.”
Michael took my hand.
I almost pulled away.
Then didn’t.
Rebecca whispered, “Sarah, there’s something else.”
I looked at her.
“What?”
“Your father.”
“My biological father?”
She nodded.
“You know who he is?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Her face tightened.
“David.”
I stood so fast the chair fell backward.
“No.”
Michael stared at her.
“Uncle David?”
“Not your biological uncle.”
“No.”
Rebecca started crying.
“I was fifteen. David was seventeen.”
I felt sick.
“He’s my father?”
“Yes.”
The stranger in my backyard.
The man who had watched Noah.
The man Diane called her brother.
Not biologically related to Michael.
But biologically related to me.
My father.
And suddenly his behavior made sense.
Why he kept looking at Noah.
Why he tried to retrieve evidence.
Why he returned the key.
He wasn’t protecting Diane.
He was protecting us.
“Where is David now?”
Michael checked his phone.
The Dallas police had released him after questioning.
He wasn’t charged with the kennel incident.
His current location was unknown.
Then Rebecca whispered, “Find him before Diane does.”
“Why?”
“Because he has the original recording.”
“What recording?”
Rebecca stared at me.
“The one where Diane admits what she did to Noah.”
I shook my head.
“The kennel?”
“No.”
May you like
Her face went pale.
“What she planned to do on his eighth birthday.”
