Chapter 3: The Locked Room
I didn't leave.
For twelve years, I'd been leaving.
Leaving home.
Leaving arguments.
Leaving phone calls unanswered because every conversation with my mother ended the same way.
Leaving memories because they hurt too much.
But that afternoon, with my father's letter trembling in my hands, I finally stayed.
I folded the first page carefully.
“What did Dad mean?””
Helen looked toward Arthur.
“Ask him.””
“I am asking you.””
“I don't know.””
“You just told me to leave.””
“Because this isn't the place.””
“Then where is?””
She said nothing.
Arthur stepped closer.
“Your father's house.””
My stomach tightened.
“The house is still standing?””
“Yes.””
“Who has it?””
Arthur looked at Helen.
My mother answered.
“Me.””
I stared at her.
“You've lived there all these years?””
“Yes.””
“And Dad's things?””
“Most of them are gone.””
Arthur shook his head.
“No.””
Helen glared at him.
“You don't know what you're talking about.””
“I helped Robert move some of his military records.””
My eyes narrowed.
“Records?””
Arthur nodded.
“He kept a private study upstairs.””
I remembered it.
A small room at the end of the hallway.
Dad called it his office.
I had been forbidden to enter it as a child.
Not because he was secretive.
Because Mom was.
Once, when I was fourteen, I'd opened the door while looking for a dictionary.
Mom had appeared behind me.
“What are you doing?””
“Looking for the dictionary.””
“You don't go in here.””
“Why?””
“Because I said so.””
Dad had later found me crying on the back porch.
He'd handed me a bowl of cinnamon pancakes.
“Your mother gets nervous about that room.””
“Why?””
He'd looked toward the house.
“Some things aren't ready to be understood yet.””
I'd forgotten that until now.
Arthur watched my face.
“You remember the study.””
“Yes.””
“Your father kept something there.””
“What?””
“I don't know.””
“You don't know?””
“He never showed me.””
“Then why are you so sure?””
Arthur reached into his jacket and removed a folded sheet of paper.
“Because Robert gave me this six weeks ago.””
He handed it to me.
It was a list.
Names.
Dates.
Locations.
At first, I didn't understand.
Then I recognized several of the names.
People from Cedar Creek.
People who had told me, through my mother, that they were disappointed in me.
People who had sent sympathy cards after Dad died.
My hands went cold.
“What is this?””
Arthur lowered his voice.
“People your father believed had helped your mother maintain a lie.””
I looked at him.
“A lie about me?””
“Yes.””
Helen stepped forward.
“Arthur, you're twisting everything.””
“Then tell her I'm wrong.””
She opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
I turned toward Chloe.
My sister had been silent the entire time.
“Chloe.””
She looked at me.
“Did you know?””
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Know what?””
“That Mom was lying.””
Chloe looked down.
“I knew she was angry.””
“That isn't what I asked.””
She swallowed.
“I knew Dad wanted to talk to you.””
“When?””
“Before he died.””
“Why didn't you tell me?””
“Because Mom took my phone.””
I stared at her.
“What?””
“She said you didn't deserve to hear from us after what you'd done.””
I looked at Helen.
“You took her phone?””
“I was protecting her.””
“From me?””
“From disappointment.””
Chloe suddenly laughed bitterly.
“Stop saying that.””
Helen turned.
“Chloe.””
“No.””
My sister wiped her face.
“You told everyone Rachel didn't care about Dad.””
“I never said—”
“You did.””
“You're confused.””
“I was there.””
Her voice broke.
“You made me tell Aunt Linda that Rachel didn't want to come home.””
The church was completely silent.
Chloe looked at me.
“She tried calling.””
I couldn't speak.
“She called the house three times.””
My fingers tightened around Dad's letter.
“Did you answer?””
Chloe shook her head.
“Mom told me not to.””
I closed my eyes.
For twelve years, I'd wondered why my calls had gone unanswered.
Now I knew.
A sound escaped me.
Not quite a sob.
Not quite a laugh.
Just air.
Arthur touched my shoulder.
“Rachel.””
I opened my eyes.
He pointed toward the brass key.
“Your father wanted you to go home.””
I looked at it.
“What does this open?””
“The study.””
Mom immediately said, “No.””
Arthur didn't react.
“That's what I thought.””
I turned to my mother.
“Why don't you want me to go into Dad's study?””
“Because your father is gone, Rachel.””
“That's not an answer.””
“He kept private things there.””
“So did you.””
Her eyes flashed.
“What does that mean?””
“It means you seem terrified of what's inside.””
She stepped closer.
“You've been away too long.””
“Maybe.””
I held up the key.
“But apparently I've been away long enough for everyone to forget I can still recognize my mother's fear.””
Her face hardened.
“You think you're better than us because you wear a uniform?””
“No.””
“Then stop acting like it.””
“I don't.””
“You walked in here expecting everyone to forgive you.””
“I walked in here to honor Dad.””
“And now you're tearing this family apart.””
I stared at her.
“You did that twelve years ago.””
Her hand twitched.
For a second, I thought she might slap me.
Instead, she whispered, “You don't know what your father did.””
Arthur went completely still.
I looked at him.
“What did she mean?””
He didn't answer.
I turned back to Mom.
“What did Dad do?””
“Nothing.””
“You just said—”
“I said you don't know.””
“Then tell me.””
She shook her head.
“Go home.””
“My home?””
She looked toward the church doors.
“The house is not yours anymore.””
Something about the way she said it made my stomach twist.
“What does that mean?””
She didn't answer.
Arthur did.
“Robert left the house to Rachel.””
My mother stared at him.
“No.””
“Yes.””
“That isn't possible.””
Arthur reached into his jacket again.
This time, he produced a document.
“It's in his will.””
I stared at the paper.
My mother took a step backward.
“You can't.””
Arthur's voice was quiet.
“He signed it.””
“When?””
“Two weeks before his death.””
Helen shook her head rapidly.
“No.””
I could barely process the words.
Dad had left me the house.
The house where I'd grown up.
The house I'd assumed was no longer mine.
The house containing the locked study.
The room my mother had spent years keeping me away from.
I looked down at the brass key.
“What else did he leave me?””
Arthur's expression changed.
“There is one more thing.””
“What?””
He looked toward Helen.
Then back at me.
“Your father believed the reason you left Cedar Creek had nothing to do with the Navy.””
My heart stopped.
“What does that mean?””
Arthur lowered his voice.
“He believed you were driven out.””
I stared at him.
Mom whispered, “Arthur, don't.””
But Arthur continued.
“He spent twelve years trying to prove why.””
I felt dizzy.
Twelve years.
Not just twelve years of my mother telling people I'd abandoned them.
Twelve years of my father apparently investigating something.
Something connected to the reason I'd left.
Something hidden in the study.
I unfolded his letter again.
There was one final paragraph on the page.
My father's handwriting became shakier toward the bottom.
Rachel, when you enter the study, do not trust the documents that have my name on them.
I read the sentence twice.
Then the next line.
One of them was forged.
My blood ran cold.
Behind me, Chloe gasped.
Arthur's face went pale.
May you like
And Helen whispered a single word.
“Impossible.””
