Chapter 7: The Person Who Stood Beside Dad’s Casket
My phone hit the floor.
The sound echoed through the tunnel.
Nobody spoke.
Nobody asked what I saw.
Because they had already seen my face.
Eric bent down and picked up the phone.
“Sarah.””
I couldn’t answer.
His eyes moved across the screen.
Then his expression changed.
“Who sent this?””
I swallowed.
“I don’t know.””
“That’s not true.””
He looked at me.
“You know who it is.””
I stared at the name.
The name that should have been impossible.
The name of someone who had stood only a few feet away from us earlier that day.
Someone who had placed a hand on my shoulder.
Someone who had told me:
“Your father was proud of you.””
My hands started shaking.
“It was Michael’s wife.””
Eric frowned.
“Lisa?””
I nodded.
Lisa Carter.
Michael’s wife.
For twenty years, she had been part of our family.
She brought desserts to holidays.
She sent Dad birthday cards.
She cried when Mom died.
She hugged me at the funeral.
And now she had sent a picture from inside my father’s hidden room.
“How does she know we’re here?”” Eric asked.
Nobody answered.
Because there was only one possibility.
Someone had been watching.
Victor looked at the phone.
His expression was unreadable.
“That explains something.””
I turned toward him.
“You know her?””
Victor looked at me.
“I know everyone who mattered to Daniel.””
“That’s not an answer.””
He ignored me.
“Lisa was never as innocent as she appeared.””
Eric stepped closer.
“You knew?””
Victor looked at him.
“Yes.””
“And you didn’t say anything?””
“You wouldn’t have believed me.””
Eric laughed.
“No.””
He shook his head.
“You’re right. I wouldn’t believe the man who spent decades hiding in the shadows.””
Victor didn’t respond.
For once, he didn’t have a clever answer.
Claire looked toward the tunnel entrance.
“We need to leave.””
Eric looked at her.
“Not until I understand.””
“Eric.””
“No.””
His voice was firm.
“I spent my entire life being protected from the truth. Everyone keeps saying they’re doing it for me.””
He looked at all of us.
“But nobody asks what I want.””
That silenced everyone.
Because he was right.
My father.
Claire.
Victor.
Everyone had made decisions about Eric’s life without letting him choose.
Eric picked up the documents.
“I want answers.””
Victor studied him.
Then slowly nodded.
“Good.””
Claire looked at him.
“Don’t.””
Victor ignored her.
“Then you need to see what Daniel hid.””
“What else?””
Victor walked toward the wall.
“There’s another room.””
My heart dropped.
“Another one?””
He pressed his hand against a section of wood.
A hidden lock clicked.
I stared.
“How many secrets did my father have?””
Victor looked at me.
“More than you know.””
The door opened.
Inside was not another storage room.
It was an office.
A real one.
A desk.
A chair.
A filing cabinet.
And on the wall were dozens of photographs.
Not random photographs.
Photographs of people.
I stepped closer.
There were pictures of Michael.
Pictures of Lisa.
Pictures of Dad.
Pictures of Claire.
Pictures of Victor.
My stomach tightened.
My father had been watching them.
Investigating them.
Eric looked at the desk.
“What is this?””
Victor answered quietly.
“This was Daniel’s war room.””
The phrase sounded wrong.
My father didn’t have a war room.
He had a garden.
He fixed old radios.
He made pancakes every Sunday.
He wasn’t someone who prepared for battles.
But maybe I had never really known him.
Eric opened the top drawer.
Inside were notebooks.
He pulled one out.
The cover had Dad’s handwriting.
*Things I Need To Remember.*
Eric opened it.
The first page contained a list.
Names.
Dates.
Events.
At the top:
*Michael Carter.*
Eric’s face tightened.
He flipped through pages.
“Sarah.””
I moved beside him.
The notes were detailed.
Too detailed.
My father had documented conversations.
Meetings.
Financial records.
Then I saw a page that made my heart stop.
*April 14 — Lisa asked about Eric’s birth records.*
I looked at Eric.
“Why would she ask that?””
He kept reading.
Another note.
*April 19 — Michael’s old files missing from office.*
Another.
*May 3 — Someone entered the house while I was away.*
Eric turned the page.
Then stopped.
“What?””
He didn’t answer.
I looked.
The handwriting was different.
Not Dad’s.
Someone had written across the page:
*You should have stopped digging.*
The words were in red ink.
A chill ran through me.
Victor leaned closer.
“That wasn’t there before.””
Eric looked at him.
“How do you know?””
Victor didn’t answer.
That was enough.
“You’ve been here.””
A pause.
“Yes.””
Eric’s eyes narrowed.
“When?””
“After Daniel died.””
My anger rose.
“You came into my father’s house after his funeral?””
Victor looked at me.
“I came because I knew he left something.””
“And you were looking for it.””
“Yes.””
The honesty shocked me.
“At least I don’t pretend.””
Eric stepped forward.
“You don’t get credit for admitting you’re dangerous.””
Victor looked at him.
“You still don’t understand.””
“Then explain.””
Victor pointed at the notebook.
“Daniel wasn’t investigating Michael.””
Eric frowned.
“What?””
“He was investigating who killed him.””
Silence.
I looked at the pages again.
The names.
The dates.
The warnings.
My father wasn’t collecting evidence against Michael.
He was searching for something else.
“Who did he think it was?”” I asked.
Victor’s expression changed.
“He never knew.””
“Then why all this?””
“Because he suspected.””
“Suspected who?””
Victor looked at Eric.
Then at me.
Before he could answer, a loud crash came from the tunnel.
Everyone turned.
Someone had entered.
Claire whispered:
“They found us.””
Eric grabbed the notebook.
“Move.””
We ran.
The hidden office door closed behind us.
The tunnel seemed longer now.
Darker.
The sound of footsteps followed.
Not rushed.
Confident.
Like whoever was coming knew exactly where we were.
We reached the exit door.
Claire unlocked it.
The door opened into Dad’s old garage.
Rain poured outside.
We stepped out.
For a moment, I thought we were safe.
Then the garage lights turned on.
Someone was standing near the car.
Waiting.
Lisa Carter.
She looked completely different from the woman at the funeral.
No tears.
No sadness.
Just calm.
“Sarah.””
My heart sank.
“Lisa.””
She looked at Eric.
Then at the documents in his hand.
“You found it.””
Eric stepped forward.
“You knew.””
Lisa didn’t deny it.
“I hoped you wouldn’t.””
I stared at her.
“You sent the message.””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
Lisa looked at Eric.
“Because I was trying to protect you.””
Eric laughed.
“Everyone says that.””
Lisa’s face softened.
“I know.””
She looked older suddenly.
Tired.
“I know how it sounds.””
“Then tell the truth.””
Lisa looked toward the house.
Then back at us.
“Your father was right about one thing.””
“What?””
“He knew someone close to him betrayed him.””
Eric waited.
“Who?””
Lisa’s eyes moved to the notebook.
Then to Victor.
Then back to Eric.
And she said something that made Victor go completely still.
“The person your father feared wasn’t Michael.””
A pause.
“It was someone who replaced him.””
Nobody spoke.
Lisa took one step closer.
“Daniel discovered Michael’s killer years ago.””
Eric’s voice was barely audible.
“Who?””
Lisa looked directly at me.
Not Eric.
Me.
And my blood ran cold.
Because I realized something.
She wasn’t looking at me like a stranger.
She was looking at me like she knew something about me.
Something my father had hidden.
“Sarah,” Lisa whispered.
“Your father never told you why he chose you.””
I felt the world tilt.
“What?””
Lisa’s eyes filled with fear.
“Because you weren’t just his daughter.””
A pause.
“You were the last person who saw the truth before he died.””
Eric looked at me.
I looked at him.
Neither of us understood.
Then Lisa reached into her coat.
She pulled out a small envelope.
One I recognized immediately.
Because it had my father’s handwriting on it.
My name.
May you like
And one sentence:
*“Sarah, if Eric ever finds the red suit, you must finally know what happened that night.””*
