Chapter 4: The Old Photograph
Daniel agreed to meet us at a diner twenty minutes away.
Lily woke up halfway there.
“Are we going somewhere fun?””
I turned around.
“Just getting breakfast, sweetheart.””
She smiled sleepily.
“Can I have pancakes?””
Dad looked at her in the rearview mirror.
“Absolutely.””
For ten minutes, we pretended everything was normal.
Then we walked into the diner.
Daniel was waiting in a booth near the window.
He was older than I expected, with silver hair and a weathered face.
When he saw me, he stood.
“Emma?””
“Yes.””
He looked at me for a long moment.
“You look like your mother.””
My chest tightened.
“Tell me what happened.””
Daniel glanced at Dad.
“I'll tell you what I can.””
We sat.
He placed a folder on the table.
“After the fire, I noticed something strange.””
“What?””
“The back door was locked from the outside.””
Dad stared at him.
“What?””
Daniel nodded.
“I reported it.””
“Then why wasn't it in the report?””
“Because the report was changed.””
Silence.
Dad leaned forward.
“By whom?””
Daniel's expression hardened.
“A senior investigator.””
“Why?””
“He said the evidence was inconclusive.””
I looked at the folder.
“What else?””
Daniel pulled out a photograph.
It showed our old kitchen.
Blackened walls.
Broken cabinets.
A melted clock.
Then he pointed to a small object near the doorway.
“A shoe print.””
I stared.
“That's a man's boot.””
“Yes.””
“My father wore work boots.””
Daniel shook his head.
“Not this pattern.””
Dad's face tightened.
“Who did?””
Daniel didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he reached into the folder again.
He pulled out another photograph.
This one showed a woman standing across the street from our house.
Her face was blurry.
But I recognized the coat.
My breathing stopped.
“That's Vanessa.””
Dad stood so quickly the table shook.
“No.””
Daniel looked at him.
“I never knew her name at the time.””
“But she was there?””
“Yes.””
I stared at the photograph.
“Why would she be there?””
Daniel lowered his voice.
“That's what I couldn't understand.””
Dad sat back down.
“Vanessa didn't know us.””
“She claims she didn't,” Daniel said.
My phone buzzed.
A text message.
*Unknown: Stop asking questions.*
Another message appeared immediately.
*Unknown: You don't want to know what your father did.*
I showed Dad.
His face changed.
“Daniel,” he said, “who knew you were meeting us?””
“No one.””
My phone buzzed again.
This time, there was a photograph.
I opened it.
It showed Lily.
Standing outside our house.
Taken less than an hour earlier.
My blood turned to ice.
Someone had been watching us.
I stood.
“We have to leave.””
Dad was already moving.
Daniel grabbed the folder.
“Take this.””
“What is it?””
“Everything I kept after they closed the case.””
We rushed outside.
Dad locked the doors.
I strapped Lily into her seat.
Then I noticed something on the windshield.
A small white envelope.
Dad reached for it.
“Don't,” I whispered.
He opened it anyway.
Inside was a single photograph.
My mother.
Alive.
Standing beside Vanessa.
On the back were six words:
*She knew who killed her.*
Dad stared at it.
Then he whispered,
“That's impossible.””
I looked at him.
“Why?””
May you like
His hands began shaking.
“Because this photograph was taken three months after your mother supposedly died.””
