Chapter 10: The Voice From the Past
The phone slipped from Rick’s hand.
It hit the counter.
The sound was small.
Almost nothing.
But everyone in the diner heard it.
Because nobody could move.
Nobody could speak.
My mother’s voice was impossible.
It was a ghost.
A memory.
A sound that belonged in old recordings and faded photographs.
Not on a phone.
Not tonight.
Not here.
“Sarah?””
The voice came again through the receiver.
I slowly stepped forward.
My hands were shaking.
“Mom?””
The entire diner went silent.
Even Daniel.
Even Miller.
The woman on the other end breathed softly.
Like she had been waiting years to hear me say that word.
“Yes.””
My knees almost gave out.
“No.””
I shook my head.
“That’s not possible.””
“I know what you believe.””
Her voice cracked.
“But what you believe is not the truth.””
I grabbed the phone.
“Who are you?””
A pause.
Then:
“I’m the woman who had to disappear to keep you alive.””
My heart raced.
“What does that mean?””
Carter moved closer.
“Put it on speaker.””
I did.
The woman continued.
“I don’t have much time.””
Daniel suddenly stepped forward.
“No.””
Everyone looked at him.
For the first time, he looked afraid.
Not angry.
Not confident.
Afraid.
My eyes narrowed.
“You know who this is.””
He didn’t answer.
That was enough.
“Daniel?””
The voice on the phone changed.
“You’re still there.””
Daniel stared at the receiver.
“You should have stayed hidden.””
The woman laughed softly.
“And you should have stayed away from my daughters.””
My breath caught.
My daughters.
I looked at Carter.
Then at Maya.
Then back at Daniel.
“What is happening?””
The woman spoke.
“Sarah, listen carefully.””
I moved closer to the phone.
“Emily found out years ago.””
“Found out what?””
“The reason your family was targeted.””
The room felt colder.
Carter whispered:
“Targeted?””
The woman continued.
“Your father wasn’t killed in an accident.””
I froze.
My father had died when I was sixteen.
A highway crash.
That was the story.
The official story.
The only story I knew.
“No.””
“Yes.””
Her voice trembled.
“He discovered what Daniel and the others were doing.””
Daniel clenched his jaw.
“Stop.””
The woman ignored him.
“Your father kept evidence.””
I looked at the notebook.
“The notebook?””
“No.””
A pause.
“The notebook was only a distraction.””
My heart sank.
“Then what evidence?””
The woman went quiet.
Too quiet.
Then she said:
“Your sister.””
I felt like the floor disappeared.
“What?””
“Emily was never just investigating.””
I looked at Daniel.
“What are you saying?””
“She was born into this.””
Nobody spoke.
The words made no sense.
My mother continued.
“When your father found out the truth, he hid the evidence with the only person nobody would suspect.””
My voice barely worked.
“Who?””
The answer came softly.
“You.””
I stepped back.
“No.””
Daniel smiled.
Not because he was winning.
Because he knew something I didn’t.
The woman continued.
“You were six years old.””
Memories flashed.
A blue house.
A stuffed rabbit.
My father holding my hand.
A locked wooden box.
I shook my head.
“I don’t remember.””
“You weren’t supposed to.””
Carter looked at me.
“Sarah…”
I ignored him.
“What did he hide?””
The woman whispered:
“Something that could destroy everyone involved.””
A sudden crash came from outside.
Everyone turned.
The front windows shook.
Daniel looked toward the parking lot.
Then back at me.
“We have to leave.””
Carter stepped forward.
“No one is leaving.””
Daniel laughed.
“You still think this is about arresting me?””
Then he looked at me.
“It’s always been about her.””
Me.
I hated how every answer created ten more questions.
The phone crackled.
My mother’s voice became weaker.
“Sarah, you need to find the place where it started.””
“Where?””
“The old house.””
I froze.
Because I knew exactly which house.
The one abandoned after my father died.
The one nobody mentioned.
The one Emily refused to visit.
Then my mother said:
“And Sarah…”
“Yes?””
“Don’t let Emily find out before you do.””
The line went dead.
I stared at the phone.
Then my own phone buzzed.
A new message.
From Emily.
May you like
Only three words.
*I know everything.*
