Chapter 2: The Secret Beneath Mercer House
For three seconds, nobody moved.
Not my father.
Not my mother.
Not Chandler.
Not even me.
The rain continued falling around us, tapping against the wooden walls of the shed like impatient fingers.
But inside that small, rotten room, the world had stopped.
“The basement?”” I repeated.
My grandfather looked at me with tired eyes.
“Yes.””
My father’s expression changed instantly.
Not guilt.
Not regret.
Fear.
Pure, unmistakable fear.
“Dad,” Richard said sharply.
The way he said it made my stomach twist.
Not like a concerned son.
Like someone warning another person to stop talking.
My grandfather flinched.
I noticed.
And that was when something inside me snapped.
I stepped between them.
“Don’t.””
My father looked at me.
“Don’t what?””
“Don’t speak to him like he’s the problem.””
His jaw tightened.
“You have no idea what’s happening here.””
I looked around the shed.
At the leaking roof.
At the damp mattress.
At the empty water bottle on the floor.
At the blanket that was nowhere near warm enough for the cold nights in Halloway.
“You’re right,” I said.
My voice was calm.
Too calm.
“I don’t know everything.””
I raised my phone slightly.
“But I’m about to find out.””
My mother crossed her arms.
“This is ridiculous. You’re acting like you’re some kind of investigator.””
I looked at her.
“No.””
I glanced at my grandfather.
“I’m acting like someone who found a seventy-eight-year-old man locked in a shed.””
Her face hardened.
“He wasn’t locked in.””
I stared at the padlock hanging from the broken door.
Nobody spoke.
My mother looked away first.
That was all the answer I needed.
A few minutes later, headlights appeared through the rain.
Two vehicles entered the driveway.
My father immediately stepped backward.
Chandler whispered something under his breath.
“What did you do?”” he asked.
I looked at him.
The irony almost made me smile.
“What did I do?””
He swallowed.
“You called them.””
“Yes.””
“Over this?””
I looked at my grandfather.
Then back at Chandler.
“Over him.””
The first officers reached the backyard moments later.
They were not people from Halloway.
They were from my unit.
People who knew me.
People who knew I didn’t make calls like this unless something was seriously wrong.
Captain Elena Brooks stepped through the rain, her expression unreadable.
“Delaine.””
I nodded.
“Captain.””
Her eyes moved past me.
She saw Amos.
Her face changed.
Not dramatically.
But enough.
She understood.
“What happened?”” she asked.
I stepped aside.
“My grandfather was missing for three months.””
I pointed toward the shed.
“My family told everyone he wanted nothing to do with me.””
Elena looked at the lock.
“Was he being held here?””
My father stepped forward.
“No.””
Everyone turned.
He forced a laugh.
“This is a misunderstanding.””
Elena looked at him.
“Sir, nobody asked you a question yet.””
My father stopped talking.
I had never seen that happen before.
Not once.
Richard Mercer was the kind of man who filled silence because he believed silence belonged to weaker people.
But now he had nothing to say.
My grandfather was carefully moved out of the shed and taken inside where he could warm up.
I stayed beside him.
I refused to let him out of my sight.
The entire time, my mother watched me.
Not with anger.
With calculation.
Like she was trying to figure out what version of me had walked back into her house.
She failed.
Because even I didn’t know.
Three years ago, I would have screamed.
I would have demanded answers.
I would have begged them to explain.
But the woman who returned to Halloway was not the same girl who left.
I had seen too many people hide behind smiles.
Too many people use kindness as a weapon.
My grandfather was proof.
The people closest to you could hurt you the most.
Inside the house, the officers began documenting everything.
The shed.
The lock.
The security camera.
The living conditions.
Every detail.
And every detail made my family look worse.
My father pulled me aside near the kitchen.
“You need to stop this.””
I looked at him.
“Stop what?””
“Destroying this family.””
I almost laughed.
“Destroying?””
He lowered his voice.
“Your grandfather is old. He gets confused.””
I stared at him.
“Are you saying he imagined being locked outside?””
“No.””
“Are you saying he imagined the lock?””
He looked away.
That was when I saw it.
The tiny crack in his confidence.
“You have no idea what you’re dealing with,” he said.
“Then explain.””
Silence.
“Explain why your father was living in a shed.””
Richard’s eyes hardened.
“You always thought you were smarter than everyone else.””
“No.””
I shook my head.
“I just noticed when people were lying.””
Before he could respond, Chandler walked in.
He looked nervous.
Actually nervous.
That surprised me.
Because Chandler had always been fearless when he had an audience.
“What’s happening?”” he asked.
My father looked at him.
“Nothing.””
I turned toward my brother.
“Your grandfather was locked in the backyard shed.””
Chandler’s face changed.
Only for a second.
But I saw it.
Shock.
Then fear.
Then something worse.
Recognition.
“You knew,” I whispered.
His eyes widened.
“No.””
“You knew.””
“I didn’t know everything.””
The kitchen became silent.
My father turned sharply.
“Chandler.””
But it was too late.
I stepped closer.
“What did you know?””
He looked at our father.
Then at our mother.
Neither of them spoke.
That silence answered more than words.
My brother ran a hand through his hair.
“I thought Grandpa was just being difficult.””
“Difficult?””
“He was angry all the time.””
“Because he was trapped!””
Chandler flinched.
My voice echoed through the kitchen.
“You saw him.””
He looked down.
“Yes.””
My heart sank.
“When?””
“Last month.””
I stared at him.
“You visited him?””
He nodded slowly.
“I brought him food.””
I felt a strange mix of anger and confusion.
“Then why didn’t you help him?””
His face tightened.
“Because Dad told me not to interfere.””
There it was.
The family excuse.
Not my responsibility.
Not my problem.
Someone else will handle it.
I looked at my father.
“You told your son to leave his grandfather in a shed.””
“He was being cared for.””
My eyes moved to him.
“Care?””
The word tasted disgusting.
“You call that care?””
My mother stepped forward.
“Enough.””
Everyone looked at her.
For the first time that night, she looked afraid.
“You don’t understand what your grandfather found.””
I froze.
Because those words confirmed everything.
Not denied.
Confirmed.
“What did he find?””
Nobody answered.
My grandfather did.
From the living room.
“He found the documents.””
The room went silent again.
I turned.
Amos was standing with the help of one of the officers.
He looked weak.
But his voice was steady.
“He found the records your father thought were gone.””
My father’s face turned pale.
“Dad, stop.””
My grandfather ignored him.
“He found out where the money went.””
My eyebrows lowered.
“What money?””
My grandfather looked at me.
“The Mercer family trust.””
I felt the air leave my lungs.
The Mercer family trust.
Everyone in Halloway knew about it.
Created by my great-grandfather.
A fund meant to protect future generations of the family.
It was supposed to provide education.
Housing.
Security.
A safety net.
My grandfather had managed it for decades.
Until my father took control.
“What happened to it?”” I asked.
Nobody moved.
Then my grandfather said quietly:
“Your father drained it.””
My father exploded.
“That’s a lie!””
The sudden anger told me more than the accusation.
My grandfather continued.
“He moved the money through different accounts.””
“You’re confused.””
“I kept copies.””
My father went completely still.
Copies.
That word mattered.
Because it meant evidence.
I looked at my grandfather.
“Where are they?””
His eyes moved toward the basement door.
The old basement entrance near the kitchen.
The one I barely remembered.
“The originals are hidden below.””
My mother’s face lost all color.
“No.””
It was barely a whisper.
But I heard it.
And so did everyone else.
Captain Brooks looked at me.
“Delaine.””
I nodded.
“Open the basement.””
My father stepped forward immediately.
“No.””
The command in his voice was automatic.
Everyone noticed.
Elena moved between us.
“Sir, you need to step back.””
“This is my house.””
“Yes,” she said calmly.
“And that does not give you the right to stop an investigation.””
My father stared at her.
Then at me.
For the first time in my life, I saw something I never expected.
Fear.
Not anger.
Not disappointment.
Fear.
The basement door was old.
The paint was cracked.
The handle was covered in dust.
But when I reached for it, I noticed something strange.
There was a fresh scratch around the lock.
Someone had opened it recently.
Someone had been searching.
I turned the handle.
The door slowly creaked open.
Cold air rose from below.
My grandfather gripped my arm.
“Delaine.””
I looked back.
His eyes were filled with warning.
“Be careful.””
I stepped onto the first stair.
Then the second.
Behind me, everyone followed.
The basement was darker than I remembered.
But near the back wall, something caught my attention.
A small metal box.
Hidden behind old shelves.
My heart started beating faster.
Because on top of the box was a piece of paper.
A handwritten note.
And the name written across it was not my grandfather’s.
It was mine.
*Delaine Mercer.*
I slowly picked it up.
The paper was old.
The handwriting was my grandfather’s.
I opened it.
May you like
And the first sentence made my blood run cold.
“If you are reading this, it means your parents succeeded in making me disappear…”
