Chapter 5: The Boy in the Photograph
I don’t remember running up the stairs.
I only remember the sound of my own heartbeat.
“Elijah!””
My son stood beside his bed, pointing toward the open closet.
His face was pale.
Not scared in the way children get scared by shadows.
Scared because he believed something impossible had happened.
I crossed the room in seconds and pulled him behind me.
“Where is he?””
Elijah pointed.
“He was right there.””
I looked inside.
Nothing.
Only his jackets, his toy boxes, and the small nightlight shaped like a dinosaur.
I searched every corner.
“Daddy, I’m telling the truth.””
I turned immediately.
“I know.””
Because I did.
Whatever was happening in my house, whatever secrets Claire and her father had buried, one thing was clear.
Elijah was caught in the middle.
I lifted him into my arms.
“Tell me exactly what you saw.””
He wrapped his arms around my neck.
“There was a man.””
“What man?””
“He looked like Mommy.””
My stomach tightened.
“Did he say anything?””
Elijah nodded.
“He said I shouldn’t be afraid.””
I carried him toward the doorway.
“Then what?””
“He said he was my real grandpa.””
I stopped.
The words felt heavier than they should have.
Behind me, Claire appeared at the bedroom entrance.
Her face changed when she saw Elijah holding onto me.
“What did he say?””
I looked at her.
“You tell me.””
Claire’s eyes filled with tears.
“Daniel…”
“Your father was in my house.””
“I know.””
“He talked to our son.””
“I know.””
“And now Elijah says he’s his grandfather.””
Claire closed her eyes.
“Because he is.””
The room went silent.
I lowered Elijah onto the bed.
“Buddy, go sit on the chair. Daddy needs to talk to Mommy.””
He nodded slowly.
As soon as he moved away, I stepped closer to Claire.
“How many more secrets are there?””
She looked broken.
“I was trying to protect him.””
“From what?””
“From Victor.””
“By hiding everything from me?””
“I thought I could handle it.””
I shook my head.
“No one handles something like this alone.””
Claire wiped her face.
“There’s something else.””
I laughed quietly.
“Of course there is.””
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small photograph.
“I found this in my father’s office.””
I took it.
The picture showed a woman standing outside a hospital.
A baby was in her arms.
Claire.
But she wasn’t alone.
Beside her stood another woman.
Rebecca.
Older than six.
Maybe around eighteen.
And behind them stood Victor.
Watching.
I looked closer.
“What is this?””
Claire pointed to the baby.
“That’s Elijah.””
My fingers tightened around the photo.
“The date?””
She pointed.
Eight years ago.
The same week Elijah was born.
“But Rebecca was supposed to be missing.””
“She was.””
“Then how was she there?””
Claire looked toward the hallway.
“Because she wasn’t missing yet.””
The answer made no sense.
I looked at her.
“Explain.””
Claire sat on the edge of the bed.
“My mother left clues before she disappeared. She knew Victor was dangerous. Rebecca found one of them.””
“What clue?””
“A hidden storage key.””
My mind returned to the brass key Elijah found.
“2147.””
Claire looked at me.
“You still have it?””
I pulled it from my pocket.
Her expression changed.
“That’s it.””
“What does it open?””
Claire shook her head.
“I don’t know.””
Rebecca appeared in the doorway.
“I do.””
We both turned.
She looked exhausted.
But determined.
“That key was my mother’s.””
I stared at her.
“Why didn’t you say that before?””
“Because I didn’t know if you were safe.””
I almost couldn’t believe it.
“Safe from my own wife’s family?””
Rebecca looked at Claire.
“From anyone connected to Victor.””
Claire lowered her head.
“She’s right.””
I looked between them.
“Where does the key go?””
Rebecca hesitated.
“Before my mother disappeared, she told me something.””
“What?””
“She said if Victor ever found her, I had to remember one thing.””
“What thing?””
Rebecca’s voice became quiet.
“She said the truth wasn’t hidden in a place.””
I waited.
“It was hidden in a person.””
A chill moved through me.
“What does that mean?””
Rebecca looked upstairs.
At Elijah.
Then back at me.
“It means Victor didn’t just choose Elijah because of his blood.””
Claire whispered:
“He chose him because of what he knew.””
I felt confused.
“Elijah was a baby.””
Rebecca nodded.
“Exactly.””
Nobody spoke.
Then my phone buzzed.
A new message.
From the same unknown number.
This time there was a photo attached.
I opened it.
And my blood turned cold.
It was a picture of Elijah.
Sleeping.
Taken inside his bedroom.
Tonight.
May you like
Below it was one sentence:
*YOU SHOULD HAVE ASKED WHY YOUR SON WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO BE YOURS.*
