Chapter 6: The Missing File
My parents' house looked different when I arrived.
The front door had been forced open.
One of the windows beside the kitchen was shattered.
A lamp lay broken on the floor.
Drawers had been pulled from cabinets and emptied onto the carpet.
My father stood in the hallway wearing a robe, his face gray.
Mom was sitting on the stairs.
“Claire.””
I rushed toward her.
“Are you okay?””
She nodded.
“Your father and I were asleep.””
“What happened?””
“We heard glass breaking.””
Dad stepped closer.
“By the time I reached the hallway, whoever it was had already left.””
“Did you call the police?””
“Yes.””
I looked around.
“Was anything stolen?””
Dad shook his head.
“Not that we can tell.””
“Then why did they break in?””
He looked toward the study.
“Because they weren't looking for money.””
My stomach tightened.
“What were they looking for?””
“The cabinet.””
I followed his gaze.
The study door stood open.
Inside, a wooden filing cabinet had been pulled away from the wall.
One drawer was completely empty.
I looked at my mother.
“What was in it?””
She hesitated.
“Ryan's wedding documents.””
My heart sank.
“Everything?””
“Not everything.””
Dad pointed to the desk.
“I found these.””
A small stack of papers sat beneath a glass paperweight.
I picked them up.
Vendor invoices.
Bank statements.
A copy of my business license.
Then I found something that made my blood run cold.
A photograph.
It showed me signing documents at my parents' dining table three weeks earlier.
I remembered the moment.
Ryan had been sitting beside me.
Vanessa had been across the table.
I had been rushing because Emma was waiting upstairs.
I looked at the photograph again.
“Who took this?””
Dad shook his head.
“I don't know.””
“Ryan?””
“I assumed so.””
I turned the photograph over.
There was writing on the back.
*Step One: Get Claire's signature.*
I stared at the words.
“What else was in the cabinet?””
Dad looked at Mom.
Mom looked away.
“Mom?””
She finally said, “Ryan gave us some things to keep.””
“What things?””
“I don't know.””
“Mom.””
“He said they were private.””
“Private what?””
She swallowed.
“Financial documents.””
I felt anger rising.
“You knew?””
“I didn't know what he was doing.””
“But you knew he was keeping documents here.””
“Yes.””
“Did you know he was using my name?””
“No.””
“Did you know about the insurance policy?””
She went silent.
I stared at her.
“Mom?””
“No.””
The hesitation told me more than the answer.
“You knew something.””
“I suspected.””
I stepped back.
“You suspected my brother was doing something illegal and you said nothing?””
“I didn't know it was illegal!””
“You didn't even ask?””
Mom's eyes filled with tears.
“He's my son.””
“And I'm your daughter.””
She flinched.
Dad stepped between us.
“Enough.””
“No.””
I shook my head.
“Not this time.””
Mom covered her face.
“I thought I was protecting the family.””
“You were protecting Ryan.””
“He needed help.””
“He needed consequences.””
Silence.
Then Dad said quietly, “Claire, there was one document I couldn't find.””
“What?””
“The original insurance application.””
I looked at him.
“It's gone.””
“Maybe the police took it?””
“No.””
“Then who?””
Dad didn't answer.
My phone buzzed.
Detective Harris.
*Do not leave your parents' house. We need to speak with you.*
I showed Mom.
She began crying again.
A police car pulled into the driveway.
Detective Harris entered with another officer.
“Claire.””
“What happened?””
“We found evidence someone entered the property specifically looking for documents.””
“The missing insurance application?””
He nodded.
“And something else.””
He handed me a clear evidence bag.
Inside was a small USB drive.
“Where did you find that?””
“In the study.””
“Was it in the cabinet?””
“No.””
He pointed toward the floor beneath the desk.
“It was taped underneath.””
My father frowned.
“I didn't put that there.””
“Neither did I,” Mom whispered.
Detective Harris looked at me.
“Do you recognize it?””
I shook my head.
“No.””
“Then we'll need to examine it.””
He took the bag back.
Before he could leave, my phone buzzed again.
Unknown number.
I opened the message.
*You should have left the wedding alone.*
Another message followed.
*Now you're going to lose more than money.*
I showed Detective Harris.
His expression hardened.
“Don't respond.””
“I wasn't going to.””
Then a third message appeared.
This one contained a photograph.
My house.
Taken from across the street.
Emma was visible through the upstairs window.
My entire body went cold.
“That's my daughter.””
Detective Harris immediately took the phone.
“Everyone stay inside.””
Dad locked the doors.
Mom started crying.
I couldn't move.
The photograph had been taken recently.
The curtains were open.
Emma's small silhouette stood beside her bed.
Whoever had taken it had been watching my house.
Watching her.
Then another message arrived.
*Ryan isn't the person you should be afraid of.*
I stared at the words.
A final message appeared.
*Ask your mother who paid for the first wedding deposit.*
I slowly turned toward Diane.
She had gone completely white.
“Mom?””
She didn't answer.
“Who paid it?””
Her lips trembled.
“Claire…”
“Who?””
Dad looked at her.
“Diane, tell her.””
Mom lowered her head.
May you like
Then she whispered a name.
And it wasn't Ryan.
