Chapter 11: The Second Phone
Dad stared at the black phone in my hand.
Mom stood behind me, silent.
Nobody moved.
Finally, Dad said, “That phone isn’t mine.””
I looked at the workbench.
“It was sitting beside your tools.””
“I found it.””
“Where?””
“Outside.””
I almost laughed.
“You found a secret phone outside?””
“In my truck.””
That stopped me.
“What?””
Dad stepped closer but kept his hands visible.
“Yesterday morning. It was under the passenger seat.””
Mom frowned.
“Who has been in your truck?””
“Michael.””
My heart sank.
“When?””
“The night before I saw him downtown.””
I shook my head.
“That makes no sense.””
“It does if someone wanted me blamed.””
I looked at the phone again.
“Who called me?””
“I don’t know.””
“The call came from this phone.””
“Then somebody used it before leaving it.””
Mom stepped forward.
“Robert, why didn’t you tell us?””
Dad laughed bitterly.
“Because every time I tell Sarah something, it turns into another reason she shouldn’t trust me.””
“At least that part is true,” I said.
His face fell.
I hated seeing it.
But I couldn’t protect him from consequences anymore.
The phone suddenly buzzed.
All three of us froze.
A message appeared.
MIDNIGHT. STORAGE 417. BRING THE ORIGINALS.
Mom whispered, “What originals?””
Dad closed his eyes.
“The documents.””
I stared at him.
“You still have them?””
“Yes.””
“Where?””
He hesitated.
“Not here.””
I held out my hand.
“Get them.””
“Sarah—”
“Get them.””
Twenty minutes later, Dad returned from upstairs carrying a battered metal box.
He placed it on the kitchen table.
Inside were old ledgers, contracts and handwritten notes.
Mom stared at him.
“You kept all of this in our house?””
“I didn’t know where else to put it.””
I opened one ledger.
Thomas Reed’s name appeared beside my father’s.
Then I saw another name.
Michael Carter.
I frowned.
“That can’t be Michael.””
Dad shook his head.
“It isn’t.””
“Then who?””
“His father.””
My stomach dropped.
Michael had always told me his father died when he was young.
I knew almost nothing about him.
“What was Michael’s father doing with you?””
Dad sat down.
“He worked for Thomas.””
I stared at him.
“Did Michael know?””
“I don’t know.””
“You expect me to believe that?””
“I swear.””
Mom suddenly pulled out a chair.
“Oh, God.””
I looked at her.
“What?””
She was staring at one of the documents.
“Michael’s father.””
Her face had gone pale.
“What about him?””
She looked at Dad.
“You told me he left Chicago.””
Dad said nothing.
“Robert.””
“I thought he did.””
“You told me that after the accident.””
My pulse quickened.
“What accident?””
Neither answered.
I slammed the ledger shut.
“No more protecting me.””
Mom looked at me.
“Michael’s father died in a car crash.””
“I know.””
“No.””
She shook her head.
“He died after leaving a meeting with your father and Thomas.””
The room went silent.
Dad whispered, “It was an accident.””
Mom turned on him.
“I never said it wasn’t.””
“You were thinking it.””
“I’m thinking you hid another connection from our daughter.””
Dad sank into his chair.
I felt nauseous.
Michael had married the daughter of the last man who saw his father alive.
Had he known?
Had our entire marriage begun for reasons I didn’t understand?
My phone rang.
Michael.
I answered immediately.
“Did you know your father worked with mine?””
Silence.
Then:
“Yes.””
The word almost knocked the air from my lungs.
“How long?””
“My whole life.””
Dad stood.
“Put him on speaker.””
I did.
Michael’s voice filled the kitchen.
“Robert?””
Dad leaned toward the phone.
“You knew?””
“I knew exactly who you were.””
I closed my eyes.
There was still another betrayal waiting.
“Why did you marry me?””
Michael went silent.
“Michael.””
“I didn’t meet you by accident.””
My knees weakened.
Mom grabbed my arm.
“What does that mean?””
Michael’s breathing became audible.
“When I was twenty-four, I found one of my father’s old notebooks. Robert’s name was everywhere.””
Dad whispered, “Oh, God.””
“I wanted answers,” Michael continued.
“So I found Sarah.””
My eyes filled.
“You found me?””
“Yes.””
“Did you date me because of my father?””
“At first.””
The kitchen disappeared around me.
Every memory changed shape.
Our first coffee.
Our first Christmas.
The proposal.
The wedding.
All of it.
“At first?”” I whispered.
“I fell in love with you.””
“Don’t.””
“That part was real.””
“Don’t you dare tell me what was real.””
Then Michael said urgently, “Sarah, listen. The person texting that phone knows where the original documents are.””
Dad looked at the metal box.
“No, they don’t.””
Michael’s voice dropped.
“Yes, they do.””
“How?””
“Because Storage 417 isn’t a public storage unit.””
Dad froze.
“What is it?””
Michael paused.
May you like
Then answered.
“It’s the number of the evidence locker where my father hid the last file before he died.””
