The second house stood beyond the northern edge of town, hidden behind a line of cedar trees and an overgrown stone wall.
Daniel had never seen it.
That fact bothered him more than anything else.
His father had spent thirty-eight years raising him, and apparently there had been another house—one Jonah had bought before Daniel was born and never mentioned.
Evelyn drove in silence.
Mara sat beside her.
Clara followed in another car.
Daniel kept the trust seal in his pocket.
The metal pendant felt strangely warm against his fingers.
"How far?" he asked.
"Ten minutes," Evelyn said.
"How did Dad buy a house without you knowing?"
"I knew about it."
Daniel turned toward her.
"You knew?"
"I knew he owned property."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because nobody lived there."
"That doesn't answer the question."
Evelyn gripped the steering wheel.
"Your father believed some places were safer if nobody knew they existed."
Mara looked through the windshield.
"He was right."
They turned onto a gravel road.
The trees closed around them.
At the end stood a two-story farmhouse with green shutters and a collapsed porch railing. Moss covered the roof. No lights showed through the windows.
Daniel got out.
The air smelled of wet leaves.
He looked at the house.
"This is where Samuel wants us."
"Yes," Evelyn said.
"How does he know we're coming?"
"He probably doesn't."
Daniel looked at the others.
"Then why would he choose this place?"
Clara answered.
"Because he knows your father left something here."
Daniel approached the front door.
It was unlocked.
Inside, dust covered the furniture.
The house felt untouched.
A grandfather clock stood against the wall.
Its hands had stopped at 3:17.
Daniel looked at Evelyn.
"Was it always like this?"
"No."
"When did Dad stop using it?"
"Shortly after you were born."
"Why?"
"He said someone had searched it."
Daniel examined the room.
Nothing seemed disturbed.
Then Mara pointed toward the staircase.
"That door."
At the top of the stairs was a narrow door painted white.
Daniel opened it.
A small room contained nothing but shelves.
On one shelf sat a row of old children's books.
Daniel picked up the first.
Inside the cover was written:
*Jonah Ellis — St. Agnes, 1968.**
His fingers tightened.
Mara reached for another.
Her name was written inside.
*Mara Ellis.**
A third book.
*Ella Ellis.**
Daniel stared.
"They were here."
"Not necessarily," Clara said.
"They were your books," he said to Mara.
She nodded.
"I remember the red one."
"You remember this house?"
"No."
"Then why your name?"
"Because Jonah kept them."
Daniel opened another book.
A photograph slipped onto the floor.
It showed four children.
Jonah.
Mara.
Ella.
And a baby.
Daniel picked it up.
"That's me."
Evelyn stared at the photograph.
"I've never seen this."
Mara studied the baby.
"You were tiny."
"Where was this taken?"
Clara turned the photograph over.
Nothing was written on it.
Daniel examined the background.
A stone wall.
A wooden fence.
The farmhouse behind them.
"This is here."
Evelyn nodded.
"Yes."
"When?"
"1989."
Daniel looked at her.
"I was one."
"Yes."
"And Mara and Ella were still here."
"For a short time."
"Why?"
Evelyn took a breath.
"Your father brought them here after he found them."
Daniel's voice sharpened.
"You said Samuel took them."
"He did."
"Then Dad got them back."
"Temporarily."
Mara looked at Evelyn.
"You never told me."
"I was trying to protect you."
"From what?"
"From remembering."
Mara's face tightened.
"I remembered anyway."
Daniel set the photograph down.
"What happened in this house?"
Evelyn looked toward the clock.
"Your father wanted to take all four children away."
"Why didn't he?"
"Because the trust made them traceable."
Daniel frowned.
"How?"
"Every legal document connected to the children carried identifying information."
"The seal."
"Yes."
"So if Dad used the trust seal, someone could find them."
"Exactly."
Daniel touched the pendant in his pocket.
"Then why did he keep it?"
"Because he needed it to prove the trust existed."
Mara stepped toward the shelves.
"There has to be another record."
Daniel looked at her.
"Why?"
"Jonah never kept things without hiding copies."
They searched the room.
Behind the books.
Under the floorboards.
Inside the desk.
Nothing.
Then Daniel noticed the grandfather clock downstairs.
"The clock."
They returned to the hall.
Daniel examined the wooden case.
At the bottom was a small brass plate.
19.
He removed the plate.
A narrow compartment opened.
Inside was a folded sheet of paper.
Daniel unfolded it.
It was a map.
The property was divided into four sections.
Each section carried one name.
Jonah.
Mara.
Ella.
Daniel.
Mara stared.
"The trust property."
"All of it?"
"Not anymore."
Daniel looked closer.
One section had been crossed out.
Beside it was written:
*TRANSFERRED TO V.**
Another was marked:
*DISPUTED.**
The final two were circled.
He turned the map over.
A message had been written in Jonah's handwriting.
*If Daniel ever finds this, tell him the fourth record is not paper.**
Daniel looked up.
"What does that mean?"
Evelyn's face changed.
"Your father had a habit of speaking in riddles."
"Not when he was frightened."
Clara took the map.
"Look at the corners."
There were four tiny symbols.
A house.
A tree.
A key.
And a circle.
Mara recognized the circle.
"That's on the trust seal."
Daniel pulled out the pendant.
The symbols matched.
He pressed the seal against the map.
Nothing happened.
Then he noticed a shallow indentation in the wooden table.
A circular shape.
He placed the seal into it.
A section of the tabletop clicked.
A hidden drawer opened.
Inside was a cassette tape.
And beneath it, a photograph.
Daniel picked up the tape.
"Who still has a cassette player?"
Evelyn said, "Your father's study."
"We have one?"
"I kept it."
Daniel looked at the photograph.
It showed Jonah standing beside a young woman.
Not Clara.
Not Marjorie.
A woman Daniel had never seen.
On the back was written:
*Ruth Ellis, 1970.**
Daniel looked at Evelyn.
"Grandmother."
"Yes."
"But Dad told me she died before he left St. Agnes."
Evelyn shook her head.
"That's what the records said."
Daniel stared at the photograph.
His grandmother had been alive after the date of his father's supposed death.
Then he noticed someone standing behind her.
An older man.
Daniel recognized the face from a photograph he had seen only once.
Samuel Ellis.
His grandfather.
Alive.
Daniel turned the photograph over again.
A final sentence had been added beneath Ruth's name.
*She knew where the girls went.**
The front door slammed.
Everyone froze.
Clara whispered, "Someone is here."
Daniel grabbed the cassette.
Mara moved toward the window.
A shadow crossed the glass.
Then a man's voice came from the hallway.
"Daniel."
He stopped breathing.
The voice was old.
Calm.
Familiar only from the family recordings his father had once played.
Samuel said:
"You've brought everyone."
Click here to continue reading: PART 14: Samuel Appeared at the Door With an Old Photograph and Offered Daniel One Answer in Exchange for the Trust Seal
The Transfer That Should Have Arrived Quietly, But Instead Opened a Door Neither of Us Knew Existed
Part 13 of 25
