The envelope contained more than one sheet.
I realized it only when a corner of paper slid loose from beneath the first page. The second sheet was thinner, folded twice, and stained with something dark along one edge. I looked at Reyes. “This wasn't visible before.” “Don't touch it with your bare hands,” he said. Tyler gave him a look. “She's already holding it.” “Then don't make it worse.” Reyes pulled a pair of gloves from a small evidence pouch attached to his belt. I stared at him. “You carry those around?” “After everything that happened today, yes.”
He carefully took the sheet from me.
The first side contained only three lines.
FRANK WAS RIGHT ABOUT THE HOUSE.
THE BLUE ROOM WAS NEVER EMPTY.
ASK WHAT WAS TAKEN FROM THE WALL.
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“The wall,” I whispered.
Tyler looked at me. “What wall?”
I told him about the wooden box we had found behind the bookcase years ago. I told him about the photographs and letters, the old key, the blue room, and the strange feeling I had always had about that house. Tyler listened without interrupting. When I finished, his expression had become distant.
“There was something else,” he said.
“What?”
He looked toward the ceiling. “My father used to ask me about that room.”
“When?”
“Before he died.”
I stared at him.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I thought it was nothing.” His voice softened. “He asked whether we'd ever heard anything in the upstairs room. I said no. He asked whether we'd ever found anything behind the bookcase.” Tyler swallowed. “I told him there was an old wooden box.”
Reyes went still.
“What did he say?” I asked.
Tyler looked at me. “He told me never to open it.”
The silence that followed was broken only by the monitor beside Tyler's bed.
I closed my eyes.
For six years, I had thought that box contained someone else's memories. Maybe old photographs. Maybe paperwork from the previous owners. Something strange, but ultimately harmless. Yet Frank Dalton had written about the house. Daniel had investigated the child. Claire had disappeared. Lily had recognized me. Someone had sent me a photograph of that same upstairs window.
None of it was random.
Reyes read the second page.
At the bottom was a handwritten name.
DANIEL.
Not Tyler's name.
His father's.
Tyler stared at it.
“That's his handwriting.”
“You're sure?” Reyes asked.
“I grew up seeing it.”
Reyes turned the page over.
Nothing.
Then he held it beneath the room's overhead light.
A faint impression appeared.
Writing pressed into the paper from another sheet.
He tilted it toward me.
“There's something underneath.”
We moved toward the window where the light was stronger. Slowly, the letters became visible.
NOT THE CAPTAIN.
I looked at Reyes.
He didn't react.
Tyler did.
“Dad wrote that?”
“I don't know,” Reyes said.
“But you recognize it.”
Reyes looked away.
That was enough.
“You know that handwriting,” I said.
“I've seen Daniel's notes.”
“No. You recognized it before you looked closely.”
Reyes remained silent.
Tyler's voice hardened. “Captain.”
Reyes finally spoke.
“Daniel came to me six years ago.”
I felt my chest tighten.
“What did he say?”
“He told me there was a child involved in something bigger than the welfare call. He said someone had altered the original report.”
“Who?”
“He didn't know.”
Tyler shook his head. “That's not all.”
Reyes looked at him.
“My father didn't trust you.”
The captain's face became unreadable.
“I know.”
The answer stunned me.
“You knew?”
Reyes nodded. “Daniel told me.”
“Then why have you been helping us?”
“Because I owed him.”
“To protect us?”
“To finish what he started.”
Tyler looked toward me.
For the first time since the fire, I saw something close to fear in his eyes.
A soft sound came from the hallway.
Someone was walking toward the room.
Reyes immediately moved to the door.
A man appeared at the end of the corridor.
Dark jacket.
Baseball cap.
Walking slowly.
Tyler's breathing changed.
“That’s him.”
The man stopped.
He looked directly through the glass panel in Tyler's door.
Then he turned and walked away.
Reyes stepped into the hallway.
I heard him call out.
The man broke into a run.
Two hospital security officers appeared from the opposite direction, but the stranger vanished around the corner.
Reyes returned less than a minute later.
“Was it him?” I asked.
Tyler nodded.
“Yes.”
Reyes looked at the second page.
“We need to find out what was taken from the wall.”
“I know where the house is,” I said.
“No.”
The word came from both men simultaneously.
I stared at them.
“I am going.”
“You're not,” Tyler said.
“You can't even walk.”
“Exactly.”
Despite everything, I almost smiled.
Then my phone vibrated again.
A new message.
THIS TIME, COME ALONE.
Below it was an address.
Our old house.
Tyler saw it.
“No,” he said.
I looked at Reyes.
He was already reaching for his phone.
“Don't respond.”
“I wasn't going to.”
The screen changed.
Another message appeared.
IF YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY LILY REMEMBERS YOU, COME BEFORE MIDNIGHT.
I felt something inside me shift.
“Why does Lily remember me?” I whispered.
Tyler stared at the message.
Reyes looked at the clock.
“Because you weren't a stranger to her.”
I looked at him.
“What are you saying?”
Reyes hesitated.
“Daniel believed Lily had seen you before.”
“That doesn't make sense.”
“It does if the child was at your house.”
“She was.”
“Six years ago?”
“Yes.”
Reyes nodded slowly.
“Then we finally have the missing piece.”
He took the envelope and folded it carefully.
“Lily wasn't left at your house by accident.”
I couldn't breathe.
“What was she doing there?”
Reyes looked at Tyler.
Then back at me.
“She was being hidden.”
“From whom?”
Reyes didn't answer.
Instead, he looked toward the corridor where the stranger had disappeared.
“From the same person who's trying to find her now.”
A nurse entered the room.
“Captain?”
Reyes turned.
“The pediatric floor just called.”
“What happened?”
“They can't find Lily.”
The words landed like a blow.
I stood.
Tyler tried to move with me.
“Where is she?”
The nurse's face had gone pale.
“She was in her room five minutes ago.”
Reyes grabbed his phone.
“Who was assigned to watch her?”
The nurse swallowed.
“Her assigned nurse.”
“Name?”
“Claire Morgan.”
My heart stopped.
“Claire,” I whispered.
Reyes looked at me.
The nurse shook her head quickly.
“No. Not Dalton. Claire Morgan.”
I almost laughed from sheer panic.
“Take me to Lily.”
Reyes stepped between me and the door.
“No.”
“She has my name in that envelope.”
“And that's exactly why you stay here.”
Tyler looked at him.
“Captain.”
Reyes met his eyes.
“We're not chasing the person anymore.”
He glanced toward the hallway.
“Now they're leading us.”
Click here to continue reading: PART 15: The Room Behind the Wall
I Arrived With Balloons and Cake, Expecting My Husband to Laugh—Instead His Entire Crew Went Silent When They Saw Me
Part 14 of 40
