Chapter 5: The House on Briar Road
The address was only twenty-three minutes from the cabin.
Dad didn't want to go.
Maya insisted.
I didn't know which frightened me more—the possibility that Lena had been alive all these years, or the possibility that the person who sent us the address wanted us to believe she was.
Dad stood in the kitchen with his coat on.
“No one goes anywhere alone.””
Maya zipped her hoodie.
“I'm coming.””
“I know.””
“I mean it.””
“So do I.””
I grabbed my jacket.
Dad looked at me.
“You're staying with me.””
“I wasn't planning on wandering into the woods.””
He almost smiled.
Almost.
Then his phone buzzed.
A message.
*Briar Road. House 14. Come before midnight.*
Dad showed us.
Maya stared.
“Who is sending these?””
“I don't know.””
“Do you think it's Mom?””
“No.””
“How can you be sure?””
Dad looked at the message.
“Because your mother doesn't ask people to come looking for secrets.””
He put the phone away.
“She buries them.””
We drove through the mountains in darkness.
Snow fell harder now.
The headlights illuminated only a narrow tunnel of road.
Maya sat beside me in the back.
She hadn't spoken for ten minutes.
Finally, she whispered, “What if she's alive?””
I looked at her.
“Lena?””
She nodded.
“I don't know.””
“She could be.””
“Maybe.””
Maya stared out the window.
“If she's alive, Mom lied about her death.””
Dad's voice came from the front.
“Yes.””
“And if she's not…”
He didn't finish.
Neither did Maya.
We reached Briar Road at 11:18 p.m.
The street was almost completely empty.
House 14 stood at the end.
It was small.
Old.
A single porch light flickered above the front door.
Dad parked.
Nobody moved.
Then Maya whispered, “That's it.””
“What?””
“I've seen it before.””
Dad turned around.
“When?””
“In Mom's photographs.””
He looked at the house.
“What photographs?””
“She used to keep pictures in a box.””
“Of this house?””
“Yes.””
Dad's hands tightened around the steering wheel.
“Stay here.””
Maya immediately opened her door.
“No.””
“Maya.””
“You're not going in without me.””
Dad sighed.
“Fine. But you stay behind me.””
We walked toward the house.
The snow crunched beneath our shoes.
Dad knocked.
Nothing.
He knocked again.
A light came on inside.
Someone was home.
The door opened halfway.
An elderly woman stood behind it.
She looked at Dad.
Then at Maya.
Her eyes widened.
“Oh my God.””
Dad stepped forward.
“I'm looking for someone.””
The woman stared at Maya.
“You found her.””
Maya's face went pale.
“Who?””
The woman opened the door wider.
“Lena.””
Maya stopped breathing.
I looked at Dad.
“Is she here?””
The woman nodded.
“She has been waiting.””
Dad stepped inside.
“Waiting for what?””
The woman looked at him.
“For you.””
The house smelled like coffee and old wood.
A hallway stretched toward the back.
Family photographs covered the walls.
I stopped.
There were dozens of them.
Maya as a little girl.
Dad younger.
Mom younger.
And Lena.
She was in almost every photograph.
Then I saw something strange.
In one picture, Lena was holding Maya.
Maya was five.
But in the next photograph, Lena was gone.
And Maya looked terrified.
I moved closer.
“Dad.””
He looked.
His expression changed.
“That photograph wasn't in our house.””
The elderly woman spoke softly.
“Your wife made sure it wasn't.””
Dad turned toward her.
“You know my wife?””
The woman nodded.
“Very well.””
“Who are you?””
“My name is Evelyn.””
She pointed down the hallway.
“I worked for your family.””
Dad frowned.
“As a nanny?””
“Yes.””
Maya stared at her.
“I remember you.””
Evelyn smiled sadly.
“You were very little.””
“You disappeared.””
“I was fired.””
“Why?””
Evelyn looked at Dad.
“Because I tried to tell you what was happening.””
Dad went still.
“What did you try to tell me?””
“That Lena was afraid of your wife.””
Maya whispered, “I knew it.””
Evelyn nodded.
“She wasn't afraid of being punished. She was afraid of being taken away.””
“Why?””
Evelyn hesitated.
“Because your mother wanted something.””
“What?””
“Control.””
Dad's face hardened.
“That doesn't explain anything.””
Evelyn looked at Maya.
“It does when you know the whole story.””
She walked toward a locked cabinet.
Pulled out a key.
Opened it.
Inside were files.
Hundreds of pages.
School records.
Medical records.
Court documents.
Photographs.
Dad took one folder.
The name on it was *Lena Davis*.
He opened it.
The first page was a medical report.
His hands began shaking.
“That's not the report I saw.””
Evelyn shook her head.
“No.””
Dad read silently.
Then he looked up.
“The cause of death…”
His voice failed.
Maya stepped closer.
“What does it say?””
Dad couldn't answer.
Evelyn did.
“Blunt-force trauma.””
Maya covered her mouth.
“But Mom said she fell.””
“She did fall.””
Evelyn's voice was quiet.
“But not down the stairs.””
Dad looked at her.
“Then where?””
Evelyn pointed toward another photograph.
A concrete floor.
A garage.
A child's red shoe.
Maya began crying.
“What happened?””
Evelyn looked at Dad.
“Your wife was moving Lena.””
“Moving her where?””
“Out of state.””
“Why?””
“Because Lena had told someone what your wife was doing.””
Dad's eyes narrowed.
“What was she doing?””
Evelyn took a deep breath.
“She was taking money from accounts that didn't belong to her.””
Dad stared.
“What accounts?””
“Trust accounts.””
“For the children.””
He went completely still.
I felt my stomach drop.
“What money?””
Evelyn looked at me.
“Yours.””
She opened another file.
My name was printed on it.
*DEVIN ANDRE DAVIS — EDUCATIONAL TRUST*
I stepped backward.
“What is that?””
Dad took the file.
His face hardened as he read.
“She emptied it.””
Evelyn nodded.
“Not all at once.””
“How much?””
Evelyn gave him a number.
Dad sat down.
I didn't understand the amount.
It sounded too large to be real.
“That money was supposed to pay for college,” I whispered.
“Yes.””
Dad looked at me.
“It was.””
“And it's gone?””
“Most of it.””
Maya stepped closer.
“What about mine?””
Evelyn looked at her.
“Your account was different.””
“Why?””
“Because your mother couldn't access it.””
Maya frowned.
“Why not?””
“Your biological father changed the trust instructions.””
Dad looked up sharply.
“Her biological father?””
Maya's face changed.
“You mean Lena's father?””
Evelyn nodded.
“He created a protected trust for both girls.””
Maya whispered, “Both?””
Dad slowly looked at her.
“What does that mean?””
Evelyn didn't answer.
She opened the final folder.
Inside was a birth certificate.
Then another.
Then a handwritten letter.
Maya took the letter.
Her hands trembled as she unfolded it.
She read the first line.
Then stopped.
“What?””
I asked.
She looked at Dad.
“It says my mother isn't…”
She couldn't finish.
Dad took the letter.
His eyes moved across the page.
Then his face lost all color.
“What does it say?”” I asked.
He looked at Maya.
“Your mother wasn't your mother.””
Maya stared at him.
“That isn't possible.””
Evelyn spoke quietly.
“Your mother adopted you.””
Maya shook her head.
“No.””
“Your biological mother was Lena's mother.””
Maya's knees almost gave out.
Dad caught her.
I stared at the documents.
Nothing made sense.
Then I noticed the date.
The adoption had been finalized *six months after Lena's death*.
I looked at Maya.
“You were adopted after she died.””
She nodded slowly.
Evelyn closed her eyes.
“There is one more thing.””
Dad looked at her.
“What?””
Evelyn's voice dropped.
“The adoption was never supposed to happen.””
The front door slammed.
All three of us turned.
A figure stood outside in the snow.
Watching through the glass.
Dad stepped toward the door.
“Who's that?””
Evelyn whispered a name.
“Maya's biological father.””
Maya stared at the silhouette.
Then the man raised his hand.
He held up a photograph.
A photograph of Lena.
May you like
Alive.
Taken yesterday.
