Chapter 2 - The Man Behind the Shed
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
I stared at the recording while my father enlarged the image.
Victor Harris stood near the storage shed, only a few feet from where Maya had grabbed my shirt.
He wasn't supposed to be there.
That morning, Victor had announced he was driving to Alabama to visit an old friend.
He had even carried a suitcase to his truck.
I remembered watching him leave before breakfast.
Yet there he was.
In our backyard.
Approaching my frightened stepsister.
"Why was Victor hiding behind the shed?" Dad asked.
Claire shook her head.
"I don't know."
Her voice sounded different now.
Not angry.
Afraid.
Maya pressed both hands over her face.
"Please stop watching."
I looked at her.
"Maya, what did he do?"
She began crying harder.
Victor moved closer to us in the footage.
The camera showed him pointing toward the house.
Then Maya stepped backward.
He grabbed her wrist.
My father's expression hardened.
"Claire, call Victor."
She didn't move.
"Claire."
Her eyes stayed fixed on the phone.
"I don't understand."
Dad lowered his voice.
"Call your brother."
She took out her phone with trembling fingers.
The call went straight to voicemail.
She tried again.
Nothing.
I looked at Maya.
"Was he threatening you?"
She shook her head.
Then nodded.
I felt anger rising inside me.
"Which one?"
She whispered, "I don't know what to say."
Dad turned toward her.
"Start with the truth."
Maya looked at Claire.
That glance made me realize something.
She wasn't only afraid of Victor.
She was afraid of disappointing her mother.
Claire knelt beside her.
"Baby, whatever happened, tell us."
Maya swallowed.
"Uncle Victor told me Jordan had found something."
I frowned.
"Found what?"
She shook her head.
"Some papers."
Dad looked at me.
"Jordan?"
"I don't know what she's talking about."
Then I remembered the previous evening.
Victor had asked me to help carry boxes from the garage into his truck.
One box had broken open.
Several folders scattered across the concrete.
I helped collect them.
Most looked like financial documents.
One contained a photocopy of Dad's driver's license.
Another had our home address printed across the top.
I hadn't thought much about it.
Victor occasionally helped Claire with bookkeeping for her small catering business.
I assumed the documents were related to that.
But when I picked up a folder, Victor snatched it from my hand.
He had looked strangely frightened.
"Those are private," he'd snapped.
I apologized.
He smiled immediately afterward.
Too quickly.
Now I wondered what I had almost seen.
"I helped Victor with some boxes yesterday," I told Dad.
Claire looked startled.
"What boxes?"
"From the garage."
Her expression changed.
"Victor said he was storing old business records."
Dad frowned.
"Why would he need my identification?"
Nobody answered.
Maya suddenly spoke.
"He said Jordan was going to tell Dad."
I looked at her.
"Tell him what?"
"He wouldn't explain."
Tears ran down her face.
"He just said if you talked, Mom would lose everything."
Claire recoiled.
"What?"
Maya looked desperately toward her.
"He said your business owed money. He said people were coming after you."
Claire stared at her daughter.
"That's not true."
But her voice lacked conviction.
Dad noticed.
"What business debt?"
Claire looked away.
My stomach tightened.
Our family had changed when Victor arrived.
Before his visit, Dad and Claire argued occasionally about money, but nothing serious.
Then Victor moved into the guest room.
He started spending hours in Dad's home office.
He received phone calls late at night.
Whenever I entered the kitchen, he lowered his voice.
I had assumed he was dealing with personal problems.
Now those little moments seemed connected.
Dad turned back to Maya.
"Why did you accuse Jordan?"
She began shaking.
"Uncle Victor told me to."
The words hit me like a punch.
I stared at her.
"You knew I hadn't hurt you?"
She looked down.
"I'm sorry."
I couldn't move.
"You knew?"
She nodded.
Claire began crying.
"Maya, why would you do that?"
Maya looked at her mother.
"Because he said you'd go to jail."
Silence.
Victor had apparently convinced Maya that protecting her mother required destroying me.
I looked away.
For months, I had helped her with homework, driven her to school, and defended her when classmates treated her badly.
And she had been willing to accuse me of violence.
Dad put one hand on my shoulder.
"Jordan, breathe."
I hadn't realized I was holding my breath.
He turned toward Claire.
"We need to preserve that video."
She nodded weakly.
Dad downloaded the original recording.
Then he saved a backup.
He also contacted the company that maintained our security system to preserve the footage.
He wasn't going to let anyone erase what happened.
Maya sat on the patio chair, crying quietly.
I didn't comfort her.
Not then.
I couldn't.
Dad continued questioning her.
"Did Victor tell you exactly what to say?"
She nodded.
"He said I should grab Jordan's shirt, then run inside crying."
My stomach turned.
"He said Mom would believe me."
Claire covered her mouth.
Maya continued.
"He said Dad would make Jordan leave. Then nobody would ask questions about the papers."
Dad stared at her.
"So this was planned?"
Maya whispered, "Yes."
I looked toward the back door.
My duffel bag was still lying on the patio.
My clothes were scattered around it.
A few minutes earlier, I had nearly lost my home.
Not because I had done anything wrong.
Because someone wanted me out of the way.
Dad reached down and picked up my bag.
Then he placed it on the patio table.
"Nobody is throwing my son out."
His voice was calm.
But I knew that tone.
It meant he was furious.
Claire stepped toward me.
"Jordan, I didn't know."
I looked at her.
"You didn't ask."
Tears filled her eyes.
"I thought Maya was telling the truth."
"You believed her without listening to me."
She lowered her head.
I didn't want another explanation.
I wanted to understand why Victor thought I knew something dangerous.
Then Dad's phone buzzed.
A notification appeared from the front security camera.
Movement detected.
He opened the feed.
Victor's black truck was parked across the street.
Its engine was running.
Dad enlarged the image.
Victor sat behind the wheel, looking toward our house.
Then he lifted his phone.
A message appeared on Claire's screen.
She read it.
Her face drained of color.
Dad took the phone gently.
May you like
The message contained only one sentence.
"If Jordan talks, you will all lose the house."
