Chapter 2
The figure disappeared before my father reached the landing.
"HEY!"
Dad's shout shook the house.
He rushed up the remaining steps.
I followed him.
"Jordan, stay downstairs!"
I ignored him.
There was no way I was leaving him alone with whoever had been hiding in our house.
Dad reached Mom's bedroom and shoved the door open.
I stopped behind him.
The room was empty.
At least, it looked empty.
The king-sized bed was perfectly made.
Sunlight poured through the curtains.
Mom's jewelry box sat on the dresser.
But the closet door was slightly open.
Dad noticed it too.
"Come out!"
Silence.
He moved toward the closet.
I grabbed his sleeve.
"Dad, be careful."
He pulled the door open.
Nothing.
Just Mom's dresses and shoes.
Then we heard a noise from the bathroom.
A sharp click.
Dad turned.
"Who's there?"
He approached the bathroom door.
I could barely breathe.
He pushed it open.
The window above the bathtub was raised.
A thin curtain moved in the breeze.
Dad rushed toward it.
"Somebody went out this way."
I looked through the window.
Below us was the roof of the covered patio.
Beyond that, the backyard.
Someone could have climbed onto the roof and reached the ground using the decorative trellis.
Dad immediately grabbed his phone.
"Call the police."
I stared at him.
"You believe me?"
He looked at me.
His expression softened for a second.
"Son, somebody was in our house."
My chest tightened.
I had spent three days wondering whether I'd imagined the figure.
Now I knew I hadn't.
We returned downstairs.
Mom was sitting on the sofa with her face buried in her hands.
Aunt Nia stood beside the kitchen island.
She looked furious.
"What happened?" she demanded.
Dad held up his phone.
"Someone escaped through the bathroom window."
Mom started crying.
"No."
Dad looked at her.
"Claire, did you know somebody was upstairs?"
She shook her head.
But she wouldn't look at him.
I noticed.
So did Aunt Nia.
"Claire," she said slowly, "look at your husband."
Mom covered her face again.
My stomach twisted.
Aunt Nia wasn't Mom's biological sister.
She was her younger half-sister.
They had grown up together after their father remarried.
For as long as I could remember, they'd been close.
But lately, they argued whenever they thought I wasn't listening.
And Aunt Nia's sudden visit had made things worse.
Dad sat beside Mom.
"Sweetheart, what's going on?"
She began shaking.
"I didn't think he'd come back."
The room went silent.
Dad slowly removed his hand from her shoulder.
"He?"
Mom looked up.
Her face was wet with tears.
"I didn't think he'd come here."
Aunt Nia whispered, "Claire, don't."
I stared at her.
"Don't what?"
She looked away.
Dad stood.
"Who are you talking about?"
Mom opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
Dad's voice hardened.
"Claire, somebody entered our house and frightened our son."
Tears streamed down her face.
"I know."
"Then tell me who!"
She whispered, "I can't."
I felt something break inside me.
For three days, she'd told me I was imagining things.
Now she was admitting she knew more.
"Mom."
She looked at me.
"You told me nobody came into your room."
Her face crumpled.
"I'm sorry."
I stepped backward.
"You lied to me?"
She reached toward me.
"Jordan, baby—"
"Don't."
The word came out louder than I intended.
She froze.
I had never spoken to my mother that way.
But I couldn't stop shaking.
"You let me think I was crazy."
She started sobbing.
Dad moved between us.
"Jordan, go sit down."
I stared at him.
"No."
"Son."
"No, Dad. I live here too."
He looked at me for several seconds.
Then nodded.
"You're right."
The police arrived twenty minutes later.
Two officers inspected the upstairs rooms.
They photographed the open bathroom window and the marks on the trellis.
One officer found a dark thread caught on a nail outside.
Another noticed mud on the upstairs hallway carpet.
Someone had definitely been there.
The officers separated us and asked questions.
I told them about the figure I'd seen three nights earlier.
I described the jacket.
The height.
The way the person walked.
Then I showed them the note.
The officer studied it.
"Did you touch this?"
I nodded.
"I picked it up."
"Anyone else?"
"My aunt and dad."
He carefully placed it inside an evidence sleeve.
I watched him.
Three words.
HE IS LYING.
But who was lying?
And why had someone left the note where I would find it?
After the officers finished, Dad insisted on changing the locks.
He also arranged for a security company to check every window.
Mom remained on the sofa.
She barely spoke.
When the police left, I went upstairs to my room.
I needed space.
But as I walked past Mom's bedroom, something caught my attention.
A photograph was missing from the hallway wall.
I stopped.
There had always been four pictures beside the staircase.
One of my parents' wedding.
One of me as a baby.
One of our family at Disney World.
And one showing Mom standing beside a younger man at her college graduation.
Now the graduation photograph was gone.
I stared at the empty hook.
Then I heard footsteps behind me.
Aunt Nia.
She stopped when she saw what I was looking at.
Her expression changed.
"Where's the picture?"
I turned toward her.
"What picture?"
She pointed at the wall.
"The one of Claire and Daniel."
My stomach tightened.
"Daniel?"
She looked surprised.
"Your mother never told you?"
I shook my head.
"Who is Daniel?"
Aunt Nia stared at me.
Then whispered something that made my blood run cold.
"Jordan, Daniel was your mother's first husband."
I couldn't move.
"My mother's what?"
Nia covered her mouth.
May you like
Then she looked toward the stairs.
And I realized she had just revealed a secret my parents had kept from me for seventeen years.
