Chapter 5: The Woman Who Buried the Truth
For several seconds, I couldn’t move.
I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t even think.
Reagan’s voice echoed through the hidden room beneath my father’s house.
Calm.
Almost gentle.
Like she wasn’t standing above me in the dark.
Like she wasn’t the reason I had spent three years behind bars.
Like she wasn’t the woman who looked me in the eyes and told me my father was gone.
I turned off the video camera completely.
The screen went black.
The room became silent.
Then I heard her footsteps.
Slow.
Careful.
Coming closer.
“Finnley,” Reagan called again.
“You always were curious.””
My hand moved toward the nearest object on the table.
A metal flashlight.
Not much of a weapon.
But enough.
The stairs creaked.
Then her silhouette appeared at the bottom.
She wasn’t wearing the emerald dress from earlier.
Now she wore a black coat over a simple blouse.
Her hair was pulled back.
Her face was different.
Not softer.
Not kinder.
Just honest.
For the first time since I came home, Reagan wasn’t pretending.
She looked exactly like someone who had been waiting for this moment.
“You knew about this room,” I said.
She stopped.
A faint smile appeared.
“I knew you would find it eventually.””
“Eventually?””
I stepped forward.
“You knew my father built this?””
“Yes.””
“Then why didn’t you destroy it?””
Reagan looked around.
“Because I didn’t know how to open it.””
I held up the brass key.
Her expression changed.
Only for a second.
But I saw it.
Fear.
“You had that.””
It wasn’t a question.
“You knew.””
Reagan looked at the key.
“Where did you get it?””
“My father gave it to me.””
She looked away.
“That explains a lot.””
My anger rose.
“Explains what?””
She didn’t answer.
“Where were you when he died?””
The question surprised her.
Not because she didn’t expect it.
Because she knew it was coming.
“At home.””
“Alone?””
“Yes.””
“Convenient.””
Her eyes hardened.
“Careful, Finnley.””
I laughed quietly.
“Funny.””
“What?””
“That’s the same thing you said when you kicked me out of my own house.””
Her face remained calm.
But something shifted.
A crack.
Small.
Almost invisible.
“I didn’t kick you out.””
“You told me to leave.””
“Yes.””
“After telling me my father died.””
“Yes.””
“After taking his house.””
Her jaw tightened.
“I didn’t take anything.””
I pointed around the hidden room.
“Then what is all this?””
Silence.
The answer was obvious.
She knew.
I walked toward the table.
“You framed me.””
Reagan didn’t move.
“No.””
The confidence in her voice made me stop.
“No?””
“You’re still thinking too simply.””
I stared at her.
“What does that mean?””
“It means you still don’t understand what happened.””
I felt my patience disappear.
“Three years ago, I was arrested for stealing money from my father’s company. Evidence appeared with my name on it. Everyone turned against me. You stood in court and told them my father was devastated.””
I stepped closer.
“And now I find out he was investigating you.””
Her expression changed.
“You think this is about me?””
“Isn’t it?””
“No.””
The answer came immediately.
Too immediately.
I narrowed my eyes.
“Then tell me who it’s about.””
Reagan looked at the video camera.
Then at the boxes.
Then back at me.
“You watched the recording.””
“Yes.””
“What did he say?””
I didn’t answer.
Her eyes studied my face.
Then she smiled sadly.
“You never changed.””
“What?””
“You always believed people told the truth when they were afraid.””
I clenched my fists.
“My father was afraid.””
“Yes.””
“Of you.””
“No.””
The word was quiet.
But certain.
“Your father was afraid of someone else.””
I stared at her.
“You expect me to believe that?””
“I expect you to understand that if I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t be standing here.””
The room went cold.
That sentence wasn’t a threat.
It was worse.
It was a fact.
I stepped back.
“What did you do to my father?””
Reagan looked at me for a long moment.
Then she said:
“Nothing.””
I laughed.
“Nothing?””
“I loved Camden.””
The statement shocked me.
Not because I believed it.
Because part of me wanted to.
My father had loved her.
He had chosen her.
He had trusted her.
And I hated that.
Because if she was lying, then my father’s final years were built on another betrayal.
If she was telling the truth...
Then I had no idea what was real anymore.
“You don’t get to say you loved him.””
Reagan’s eyes flashed.
“You don’t know what happened.””
“I know enough.””
“No.””
Her voice became sharper.
“You know what people wanted you to know.””
I stared at her.
“People?””
She looked toward the ceiling.
“We need to leave.””
I almost smiled.
“Now you want to help me?””
“No.””
The answer surprised me.
“I want you to survive.””
I grabbed the video camera.
“You knew about this room. You knew about the key. You knew my father left evidence.””
“Yes.””
“Why didn’t you tell me?””
“Because I was trying to protect you.””
I shook my head.
“That’s what everyone says.””
“Because sometimes it’s true.””
I moved toward the stairs.
“I’m done listening to people who say they’re protecting me.””
Reagan stepped in front of me.
“Finnley.””
“What?””
Her voice lowered.
“The person who framed you knows you’re here.””
“I know.””
“No.””
She looked directly into my eyes.
“You don’t.””
A chill ran through me.
“What do you mean?””
She glanced at the video camera in my hand.
“That recording wasn’t supposed to play.””
I frowned.
“It did.””
“No.””
She shook her head.
“Your father set it up differently.””
I froze.
“What?””
“He didn’t want anyone finding this room and watching the message.””
“Then why leave it?””
“Because he wanted one person to see it.””
“Me?””
“Yes.””
I waited.
“Then what’s the problem?””
Reagan’s face turned pale.
“The recording should have erased itself after being watched.””
My stomach tightened.
“What?””
“He designed it that way.””
I looked at the camera.
“That doesn’t make sense.””
“It does if someone else has already watched it.””
The room went silent.
I slowly turned toward the camera.
Someone had been here.
Someone had found the room before me.
Someone had watched my father’s final message.
And maybe changed something.
“Who?””
Reagan didn’t answer.
Instead, she looked at the door.
A second later, we heard something.
Above us.
The sound of movement.
Someone walking through the house.
My hand tightened around the camera.
“You brought someone?””
“No.””
“Then who is upstairs?””
Reagan’s expression changed.
For the first time, I saw genuine fear.
“I don’t know.””
The lights in the basement suddenly turned on.
We both froze.
The hidden room had no electricity.
The only switch was outside.
Someone had turned it on.
Someone who knew exactly where we were.
Then a voice came from above.
A man’s voice.
“Finnley.””
I recognized it.
My heart dropped.
Elliot.
My father’s lawyer.
“Come upstairs.””
Reagan looked at me.
“You need to listen to me.””
I ignored her.
The voice came again.
“Finnley, I know you’re down there.””
I looked at Reagan.
“What is happening?””
She whispered:
“He’s not here to help you.””
I stared at her.
“How do you know?””
Her answer came softly.
“Because he was there the night your father died.””
My blood ran cold.
“What?””
Reagan looked at the stairs.
Then said the words that changed everything.
“Elliot Vance wasn’t your father’s lawyer.””
A pause.
“He was the last person your father trusted before he realized he had been betrayed.””
The footsteps above us stopped.
Then Elliot called down:
“Finnley.””
A pause.
“You have five minutes to come out.””
I looked at Reagan.
She looked back at me.
Two people.
Two stories.
Two versions of the truth.
And for the first time, I realized something terrifying.
Maybe my father’s warning wasn’t about trusting Reagan.
Maybe it wasn’t about trusting Elliot.
Maybe it was about trusting anyone at all.
The hidden room suddenly felt smaller.
The walls felt closer.
Then the old video camera in my hand made a sound.
A tiny click.
The screen turned on by itself.
Both Reagan and I looked down.
A new file appeared.
One that wasn’t there before.
Created moments ago.
The title was simple.
*PLAY THIS WHEN THEY ARE BOTH WITH YOU.*
My fingers went numb.
Because the camera had recorded something.
Something after my father died.
Something someone wanted me to see.
May you like
And beneath the file name was a timestamp.
The date was yesterday.
