Chapter 4: The Secret Sophie Left Behind
The room fell silent after I read the date.
Yesterday.
Not twenty-two years ago.
Yesterday.
I looked at the bottom of the letter again.
The ink was fresh.
The handwriting was unmistakable.
Grandma had written this while everyone believed Room 9 was just an old storage room.
“Lucas,” my mother whispered.
“What does it say?””
I didn’t answer immediately.
Because I was afraid to.
My father stepped closer.
“Give me that letter.””
I moved it behind my back.
“No.””
His expression changed.
“Lucas.””
It was the same voice he used when I was a child and he expected obedience.
But I wasn’t a child anymore.
And for the first time, I saw him as someone hiding something.
Not protecting me.
Hiding something.
“You knew about Sophie,” I said.
My father looked away.
“I knew there was a tragedy.””
“A tragedy?””
My voice rose.
“You erased your daughter from this family.””
“That is not what happened.””
“Then tell me what happened.””
Again, silence.
My mother looked at him.
“Richard, tell your son the truth.””
He rubbed his forehead.
“I was young.””
The words sounded almost like an excuse.
“I made mistakes.””
“Mistakes?”” I repeated.
“A mistake is forgetting an anniversary. A mistake is saying something wrong.””
I held up the photograph.
“This was your daughter.””
His eyes moved to Sophie’s face.
For a second, his expression softened.
Then it disappeared.
The speaker suddenly turned on again.
Grandma’s voice filled the room.
“Richard, if you are there, I want you to hear this.””
My father froze.
“I spent twenty-two years hoping you would admit what you did.””
Everyone looked at him.
“What did he do?”” my mother asked.
The recording continued.
“Sophie found out that Richard had been secretly selling family property behind my back.””
My father immediately shook his head.
“No.””
“She found the contracts. She found the bank records. She threatened to tell me.””
My breathing stopped.
The room suddenly made sense.
The locked door.
The hidden bedroom.
The fear.
“She was eight years old,” Grandma said.
“She didn’t understand money or business. She only understood that her father was doing something wrong.””
My father stepped toward the speaker.
“She misunderstood.””
The recording continued.
“She told me she was scared of him.””
My mother covered her mouth.
I stared at my father.
“Did she?””
He didn’t answer.
The worst part wasn’t what he said.
It was what he didn’t say.
My eyes fell back to the box.
The drawing inside showed a little girl standing beside three people.
Grandma.
A younger Richard.
And another person.
Someone I had never seen before.
A woman.
On the back of the drawing, Sophie had written something in childish handwriting.
“Mom says Dad is not who everyone thinks he is.””
I felt a chill.
My father saw the drawing.
His entire expression changed.
“Where did you find that?””
I looked at him.
“Who is the woman in this picture?””
He didn’t respond.
My mother picked up the drawing.
Then she whispered something that made everyone turn.
“I know her.””
The room went still.
“You do?”” I asked.
My mother stared at the face drawn by an eight-year-old child.
“She was the reason your grandmother and your father stopped speaking twenty-two years ago.””
The speaker crackled one final time.
Then Grandma’s voice returned.
“There is one more thing you need to know about Sophie.””
A pause.
Then:
“She did not leave alone.””
My heart dropped.
My father stepped backward.
May you like
And from somewhere inside the hidden wall behind the bookshelf…
came a faint knocking sound.
