Chapter 2: The Letter Hidden in the Closet
I didn’t sleep that night.
Emily was finally resting in my room, curled under the blankets while holding onto my hand. She had refused to go back to her bedroom.
I couldn’t blame her.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the broken picture frame.
I saw Vanessa standing in the doorway.
And I heard that mysterious woman’s voice.
“I’m the person Vanessa thought she got rid of.””
At six in the morning, I walked into the kitchen.
Vanessa was already there.
She was making coffee like nothing had happened.
That bothered me more than if she had been angry.
“How can you act normal?”” I asked.
She slowly turned around.
“James…”
“No. I want answers.””
She placed the coffee cup down.
“Emily misunderstood something.””
“Then explain it.””
Vanessa looked uncomfortable.
“Kids create stories when they’re scared.””
I stared at her.
“My daughter was lying on the floor.””
“She fell.””
“She said she saw you.””
Vanessa’s expression hardened.
“You’re choosing to believe an eight-year-old child over your wife?””
I didn’t answer.
Because the truth was, I didn’t know who I believed anymore.
The front door opened.
Ethan walked inside.
I immediately turned toward him.
“What are you doing here?””
He stopped.
“I came to check on Emily.””
“Why?””
His eyes moved away.
“Because I care about her.””
I laughed quietly.
“Funny. Last night you looked terrified.””
Ethan didn’t respond.
Vanessa stepped between us.
“James, this isn’t helping.””
I looked at both of them.
“You both know something.””
Silence.
That silence was my answer.
I walked back to the bedroom.
The closet door was slightly open.
I remembered Emily pointing there.
I pulled it open.
Inside were old boxes, jackets, and things we hadn’t touched in years.
I searched through everything.
Then I found a small wooden box hidden behind winter clothes.
My hands went cold.
Because I recognized it.
It belonged to my first wife, Sarah.
Emily’s mother.
I hadn’t seen it since she died.
I opened it.
Inside were old photos, a necklace, and several folded papers.
Then I saw the letter.
The handwriting was Sarah’s.
My heart started racing.
I unfolded it.
“James, if you’re reading this, something happened that I was afraid of…”
I stopped.
My vision blurred.
Sarah had written the letter before she died.
Why had I never seen it?
I kept reading.
“I don’t know who I can trust anymore. Vanessa has been asking questions about my past. She says she wants to help, but something feels wrong.””
I felt like the room was spinning.
Vanessa.
My wife.
Sarah had been suspicious of her.
A sound came from behind me.
I turned.
Emily was standing at the door.
“Dad?””
I quickly hid the letter.
“You should be resting.””
She walked closer.
“Are you mad at me?””
My heart broke.
“No, sweetheart.””
“Vanessa said I was making things up.””
I knelt down.
“Did she?””
Emily nodded.
“She said nobody would believe me.””
My chest tightened.
“Emily, tell me everything.””
She looked toward the hallway.
Then she whispered:
“The night before Mom died… Vanessa was at our house.””
I froze.
“What?””
Emily’s eyes filled with tears.
“I remember because Mom was crying.””
I stood completely still.
“Why didn’t you tell me?””
“Because Vanessa told me if I said anything, you would hate me.””
I pulled my daughter into my arms.
Then I heard footsteps.
Vanessa.
She was standing outside the room.
“How much did she tell you?””
Her voice wasn’t gentle anymore.
It was cold.
I stood up.
“Enough.””
Vanessa looked at the letter in my hand.
Her face changed.
“You found it.””
“Yes.””
She took a step forward.
“James, you don’t understand what happened.””
“Then tell me.””
She opened her mouth.
But before she could speak, my phone buzzed.
Another message from the unknown number.
This time, there was a photo attached.
A photo of Vanessa.
Standing beside Sarah.
Taken the day before Sarah died.
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And underneath it was one sentence:
“She wasn’t just hiding the truth from you. She was hiding the truth about your daughter.””
