I spent the entire night inside the hidden room.
Every box seemed to contain another secret.
There were photographs of Dad.
Photographs of Mom.
Photographs of people I had never seen before.
There were financial records dating back more than twenty years.
But the strangest thing was the correspondence.
Dozens of letters were addressed to Dad.
Some had no return address.
Some were written in different handwriting.
One envelope had only three words:
SHE IS ALIVE.
I showed it to Emma.
She began shaking.
“You knew something, didn’t you?”
She looked away.
“Emma.”
“I didn’t know.”
“You said there wasn’t a hidden room.”
“I was afraid.”
“Afraid of what?”
She finally looked at me.
“Dad told me never to ask questions about Mom.”
I sat down.
“Why?”
“He said it was for our protection.”
Before we could continue, there was another knock.
Richard.
Again.
This time, he entered without waiting for an invitation.
“I forgot something,” he said.
“What?”
He looked at the hidden room.
For a moment, his expression changed.
“You found it.”
“You knew exactly where it was.”
He didn’t deny it.
“Dad trusted you.”
“He did.”
“Then tell me the truth.”
Richard sighed.
“Your father spent years trying to protect you.”
“From who?”
He looked at Emma.
Then back at me.
“From people who wanted something your father had.”
“What?”
“Evidence.”
“What evidence?”
He didn’t answer.
Instead, he pointed toward one of the boxes.
“Your father collected information about someone who was stealing money from his company.”
I stared at him.
“Who?”
Richard’s eyes hardened.
“We don’t know yet.”
I knew he was lying.
I could feel it.
But before I could question him further, he left.
Emma and I returned to the boxes.
Behind a stack of newspapers, I found another envelope.
Inside was a letter from Dad.
My girls,
If you have found this room, then something has happened to me. I wish I could have told you everything myself. But some truths are dangerous when spoken too early.
Look for the red folder.
We searched everywhere.
Finally, Emma found it underneath the floorboards.
Inside was a collection of documents about Dad’s company.
Millions of dollars had been transferred through several fake companies.
The money all led to the same name.
R.C. HOLDINGS.
I stared at the initials.
“R.C.”
Emma whispered:
“Richard Carter.”
Suddenly, footsteps sounded upstairs.
We froze.
Someone was inside the house.
The footsteps moved slowly across the hallway.
Then stopped directly outside the study.
The door handle moved.
Emma grabbed my arm.
The door opened.
But no one was there.
Only a note had been left on the floor.
I picked it up.
There was one sentence.
STOP LOOKING.
Emma started crying.
I folded the note.
“No.”
“What?”
“Dad spent his entire life protecting this secret.”
I looked at the hidden room.
“Now I’m going to find out why.”
