Chapter 3 - THE FILE IN GRANDMA'S ATTIC
I didn't sleep.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the highway.
The gravel.
The headlights.
Daniel's hand on my arm.
The red taillights disappearing.
At 3:14 a.m., my phone buzzed.
It was my father.
Don't worry. He's not getting back into the house.
I typed:
What happened?
His reply came seconds later.
Patricia called him home.
Then another message appeared.
I think she knows about the file.
My heart started beating faster.
What file?
No answer.
I called.
Dad picked up.
“Where are you?”
“At home.”
“What's the file?”
Silence.
“Dad?”
“I found it in your grandmother's attic.”
“What is it?”
“I don't know yet.”
“Then why are you scared?”
“I didn't say I was scared.”
“You don't have to.”
He exhaled.
“Your grandmother kept records.”
“Of what?”
“Your mother's divorce. Your father's business. Patricia.”
I sat upright.
“Patricia?”
“Your grandmother didn't trust her.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
“Dad.”
“I found an envelope with Patricia's name on it.”
My skin prickled.
“What's inside?”
“I haven't opened it.”
“Why?”
“Because your grandmother wrote something on the front.”
“What?”
Dad paused.
“Open only if Claire is in danger.”
I looked at my stomach.
“I'm in danger.”
“I know.”
“Open it.”
He was silent for a long time.
Then I heard paper tearing.
A moment later, Dad said:
“Oh my God.”
“What?”
“There are photographs.”
“What kind?”
“Daniel.”
My heart stopped.
“What about him?”
“Your husband is in these pictures.”
“Doing what?”
Dad's voice became colder.
“He's with Patricia.”
“They're mother and son.”
“Not like this.”
I waited.
“Dad?”
“There are dates.”
“How old?”
“Three years.”
“That was before we married.”
“Yes.”
“What's wrong with that?”
“The photographs aren't of Daniel and Patricia.”
I didn't understand.
“What do you mean?”
Dad said:
“Daniel is meeting someone else.”
My throat tightened.
“Who?”
“Her name is Vanessa Cole.”
I felt dizzy.
I had heard that name.
Daniel's coworker.
The woman he always described as “just a friend.”
I remembered the nights he'd stayed late.
The business trips.
The locked phone.
The sudden passwords.
My father continued.
“There are hotel receipts.”
“How many?”
“Enough.”
I closed my eyes.
But then Dad said something that made my blood run cold.
“Claire, the last photograph was taken six months ago.”
Six months.
While I was pregnant.
While Daniel told me I was imagining things.
“Send them to me.”
“I don't want you looking at this tonight.”
“Send them.”
A few seconds later, my phone began filling with images.
Daniel entering a hotel.
Daniel leaving a restaurant with Vanessa.
Daniel holding her waist.
Daniel kissing her.
My hands shook.
Then I saw the final photograph.
Daniel and Vanessa weren't alone.
Patricia was standing beside them.
I stared at the image.
“What is she doing there?”
Dad didn't answer.
I zoomed in.
On the table was a folder.
And on the folder was my name.
CLAIRE MONROE.
My breathing stopped.
“Dad.”
“I see it.”
“What is that?”
“I don't know.”
“Find out.”
“I will.”
Another message appeared.
This time from an unknown number.
You don't know what your husband has been planning.
My fingers went numb.
I replied:
Who is this?
Three dots appeared.
Then:
Someone who should have warned you a long time ago.
Another message followed.
Ask Daniel why he needed your signature.
I stared at the screen.
“What signature?”
Dad looked at me.
“What?”
I showed him the message.
His face hardened.
“Don't answer.”
“Why?”
“Because whoever this is knows something.”
“About what?”
Dad looked down at the photographs.
“Your grandmother's house.”
The hospital monitor suddenly began beeping faster.
A nurse rushed into the room.
“Claire, lie back.”
“What happened?”
“Your contractions are increasing.”
I grabbed Dad's hand.
“Something is wrong.”
He squeezed my fingers.
“No.”
His eyes met mine.
May you like
“Something is finally being revealed.”
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