Chapter 8
I don’t remember getting into the police car.
One second I was at the lake house.
The next I was gripping the back seat while Brooks drove toward home with lights flashing.
Mom sat beside me.
Dad was in another vehicle.
“Maya called from the basement.”
“I heard,” Mom whispered.
“She can’t get out.”
“Firefighters are already there.”
“That doesn’t mean—”
Mom grabbed my hand.
“Caleb.”
I looked at her.
“We are going to get there.”
I hated promises.
Promises had done nothing for us.
But I held her hand anyway.
When we turned onto our street, I saw smoke.
Black clouds rolled above the houses.
My chest collapsed.
Fire trucks blocked the road.
Flames came through one side window of our kitchen.
The same kitchen where all of this had started.
I tried to run toward the house.
A firefighter stopped me.
“My friend is inside!”
“They know.”
“She’s in the basement!”
“They know!”
Mom ran to the incident commander.
Brooks joined her.
I stood helplessly on the sidewalk.
Again.
Waiting.
Again.
Depending on strangers to save someone I loved.
Then firefighters came through the side door carrying someone.
“Maya!”
I ran forward.
She was conscious.
Coughing.
Soot covered her face.
They placed her on a stretcher.
I grabbed her hand.
“I’m sorry.”
She squeezed my fingers.
“Not your fault.”
“Who did this?”
Her eyes opened wider.
“Rebecca.”
Mom heard.
She went still.
Maya coughed again.
“She came to my house.”
“Why?”
“She said she needed to know where you were.”
Brooks leaned closer.
“What happened?”
“I wouldn’t tell her.”
Maya closed her eyes.
“She hit me.”
My mother made a broken sound.
“She dragged me into your house through the garage.”
“Why ours?” I asked.
Maya looked toward the burning building.
“To destroy something.”
Mom stared at the flames.
“The original files.”
Brooks frowned.
“I thought the drive had copies.”
“It does.”
“But Grant and Rebecca don’t know how many copies exist.”
Dad approached.
“Rebecca wanted to erase the house.”
Maya squeezed my hand.
“She kept asking about Daniel’s storage key.”
I looked at Mom.
“What storage key?”
Mom seemed confused.
“I don’t know.”
Maya whispered, “She thought you had it.”
Me.
Then I remembered.
The old key Maya gave me.
The one Mom had left with her.
I pulled it from my pocket.
Mom stared.
“That isn’t mine.”
Maya looked shocked.
“You gave it to me.”
“No.”
Silence.
“You came to my house last week.”
Mom shook her head.
“I haven’t been inside your house in almost a month.”
Maya’s face drained of color.
“Then who gave me the key?”
We all understood at once.
Rebecca.
She looked enough like Mom from a distance.
Same height.
Same dark hair.
Maya had been sick with the flu last week.
“She came late,” Maya whispered.
“She wore a hood.”
Brooks took the key.
“So Rebecca wanted Caleb to have this.”
“But why?” I asked.
Dad answered.
“To lead her to something.”
I stared at the key.
“She wanted us to open whatever it belongs to.”
Brooks nodded.
“And reveal where Daniel hid something she couldn’t find.”
Mom looked toward the burning house.
“Then this fire wasn’t just revenge.”
“It was pressure.”
My phone buzzed.
I almost didn’t look.
A text from Rebecca.
I see you found the key.
Brooks swore.
Another message.
Ask Sarah what Daniel called the place where truth sleeps.
Mom stared at the words.
Her mouth opened.
“No.”
“What?”
She looked at Dad.
“The cemetery.”
My skin prickled.
“Daniel’s grave?”
Mom nodded slowly.
“When we were kids, Daniel hated funerals. He called cemeteries places where truth sleeps because everyone stops lying when someone dies.”
Brooks examined the key.
“Could open a mausoleum box.”
Dad shook his head.
“Daniel wasn’t buried in one.”
Mom suddenly looked at me.
“His memorial bench.”
“What?”
“There’s a locked compartment underneath.”
I remembered the bench near Uncle Daniel’s grave.
Our family installed it after he died.
Brooks immediately radioed officers.
Rebecca texted again.
Come alone, Sarah.
Then another.
Or I finish what Grant started.
Mom stared at the screen.
“She wants me there.”
Brooks said, “She wants the key.”
“She already had the key.”
“No. She had a duplicate.”
Dad looked at the teeth.
“Maybe this is the original.”
Brooks called the cemetery team.
Minutes passed.
Then the radio came back.
“They found the bench.”
I held my breath.
“Compartment underneath.”
Mom squeezed my arm.
“Open it.”
Brooks listened.
Then her face changed.
“What?”
She lowered the radio.
“It’s empty.”
My stomach dropped.
Rebecca texted.
Too slow.
A photograph arrived.
A small metal box sat on a car seat.
Beside it was a handwritten note in Uncle Daniel’s writing.
Mom whispered, “She has it.”
Then another picture.
Rebecca holding a lighter beneath the note.
IF I BURN THIS, DANIEL’S LAST SECRET DIES WITH IT.
Brooks started issuing orders.
Find Rebecca’s vehicle.
Track traffic cameras.
Alert neighboring counties.
Mom stared at the photograph.
Then she suddenly zoomed in.
“Wait.”
“What?”
She pointed behind the box.
A plastic grocery bag.
A logo.
Henderson Market.
Dad frowned.
“There are six of those.”
“Not anymore.”
Mom looked at Brooks.
“The original Henderson Market closed three years ago.”
Brooks understood.
“The building?”
“Vacant.”
“Where?”
“Near Daniel’s old company office.”
Police moved again.
This time, Mom looked at me before anyone could tell me to stay.
“You are not coming.”
I almost argued.
Then I stopped.
Rebecca wanted chaos.
She wanted us emotional.
I looked at Mom.
“Bring her back alive.”
Mom nodded.
“For Daniel.”
Dad placed a hand on my shoulder.
“And for us.”
I stayed with Maya while Mom and Dad went with Brooks.
Maya was taken to the hospital for smoke inhalation.
I rode with her.
Two hours later, my phone rang.
Mom.
I answered immediately.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“Dad?”
“Yes.”
“Rebecca?”
Silence.
My stomach tightened.
“Mom?”
“We found the box.”
“And Rebecca?”
“She wasn’t there.”
I stood beside Maya’s hospital bed.
“What was inside?”
Mom’s voice changed.
“A letter from Daniel.”
I stopped breathing.
“To who?”
“To me.”
She began crying.
“What did it say?”
Mom tried to answer.
Then Brooks’s voice came through the phone.
“Sarah, we have movement.”
Mom gasped.
The line filled with noise.
Then Rebecca spoke.
Not beside Mom.
Through my phone.
She had somehow joined the call.
“Hello, Caleb.”
I froze.
Maya sat up.
Rebecca continued.
“Your mother always did underestimate me.”
“Where are you?”
“Closer than you think.”
I looked toward the hospital doorway.
May you like
Empty.
Then the lights in the hallway went out.
