Maya reached the top of the stairs and pulled Lily against her.
“Did you see them?”
Lily shook her head.
“Just a shadow.”
“Where?”
“Outside the window.”
Maya looked toward the bedroom.
The curtains were moving slightly.
She walked inside.
The window was still locked.
Rain streaked the glass.
Maya checked the latch twice.
Nothing had been disturbed.
Then she noticed the floor.
A muddy footprint sat beside the bed.
Small.
Not a child's shoe.
An adult's shoe, narrowed by the angle.
Maya stared at it.
“Mom?”
“Stay behind me.”
She moved toward the window.
On the sill was a folded piece of paper.
Maya did not touch it.
She called Rachel.
“What now?” Rachel asked.
“Someone was in Lily's room.”
Rachel inhaled sharply.
“What?”
“There's a footprint.”
“Call the police.”
“I will.”
“Now.”
Maya took a photograph of the footprint and the paper.
Then she called emergency services.
While she waited, she picked up the note with a tissue.
There were only six words.
YOU WERE WARNED ABOUT THE ROOM.
Maya read it twice.
Lily pressed against her side.
“What does it say?”
“Nothing you need to worry about.”
“Is it from the man?”
Maya looked down.
“What man?”
“The one on the phone.”
Maya went still.
“You heard that?”
Lily nodded.
“I woke up when you were talking.”
“What did you hear?”
“He said not to open something.”
Maya swallowed.
“The room?”
Lily nodded.
Before Maya could ask anything else, sirens appeared at the end of the street.
Two officers searched the house.
They found no one.
There was no sign of forced entry.
No damaged lock.
No open window.
The muddy footprint was the only physical evidence.
One officer photographed it.
“Do you know anyone who might have done this?”
Maya thought about Robert.
Then Rachel.
Then her father.
“I don't know.”
The officer studied her.
“You're sure?”
Maya nodded.
“I've had threats before.”
“From whom?”
“Unknown.”
She decided not to mention the family yet.
The officers left after checking the property.
Maya locked every door again.
Lily refused to sleep alone.
Maya brought her daughter into the master bedroom and made a bed on the floor beside hers.
Only after Lily fell asleep did Maya return to the note.
She placed it beside the photograph.
The handwriting was unfamiliar.
But the phrase about the room echoed Rachel's warning.
Maya picked up the key.
Her mother had called it a storage-room key.
But the map suggested another possibility.
She searched the internet for public records concerning her grandfather's old property.
The property had been demolished fifteen years earlier.
A new apartment complex now stood there.
Maya stared at the screen.
If the house was gone, the storage room was gone too.
Unless the underground room had survived.
She searched older property documents.
The workshop had been listed separately.
Then she found something strange.
A structure beneath the workshop had never appeared on the official plans.
Maya copied the reference number.
She searched again.
Nothing.
Her phone rang.
This time the caller ID showed her father's number.
Maya stared at it.
Rachel had warned her not to call him.
She hadn't said anything about answering.
Maya picked up.
“Dad?”
His voice sounded tired.
“Are you alone?”
“No.”
“Is Lily with you?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Maya stood.
“Did you send someone to my house?”
“What?”
“Someone was in Lily's bedroom.”
Silence.
Then her father said, “You opened the box.”
Maya's heart hammered.
“How do you know?”
“Because you wouldn't have called me otherwise.”
“You're avoiding the question.”
“I didn't send anyone.”
“Then who did?”
“I don't know.”
“You know about the room.”
“I know enough to tell you to stay away from it.”
“Why?”
“Because your grandfather wasn't hiding money.”
Maya looked at the photograph.
“Then what was he hiding?”
Her father breathed slowly.
“People.”
Maya said nothing.
“Dad, what does that mean?”
“I can't explain over the phone.”
“Try.”
“You need to find the ledger.”
“What ledger?”
“The original one.”
Maya felt cold.
“Where is it?”
Her father hesitated.
“Your grandfather gave it to someone before the fire.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“I wish I were.”
Maya looked toward Lily.
Her daughter slept peacefully, unaware that the adults around her had spent decades carrying secrets.
“Dad, who was Robert to Grandpa?”
Her father went silent.
“Dad.”
Finally he answered.
“An employee.”
Maya's eyebrows drew together.
“Mom said they barely knew each other.”
“Your mother was wrong.”
“Why did Robert lie?”
“I don't know.”
“You're protecting him.”
“No.”
“Then tell me the truth.”
Her father's voice became very quiet.
“Robert wasn't the only person inside that workshop when it burned.”
Maya's breath caught.
“Who else?”
“I never found out.”
“Did Grandpa survive the fire?”
Another silence.
Then:
“Not the way they told you.”
The call ended.
Maya stared at the phone.
She called back.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
She opened the photograph and looked at the fourth figure in the window.
The woman.
She enlarged it again.
This time, she noticed the figure was holding something.
A ledger.
Maya whispered to herself.
“Who are you?”
Her phone buzzed.
A message from an unknown number appeared.
STOP LOOKING FOR THE WOMAN.
Maya's hands went cold.
A second message arrived.
SHE IS THE REASON YOUR GRANDFATHER DIED.
Click here to continue reading: PART 7: The Woman in the Workshop Photograph Had a Name, and Finding It Forced Maya to Reconsider Her Father’s Entire Story
The Dinner Was Supposed to Mend Our Family Until My Daughter’s Cry Changed Everything
Part 6 of 20
