Chapter 3: The Room David Hid From Me
I stopped breathing.
For two seconds, maybe three, I convinced myself grief was playing tricks on me.
People hear things after losing someone.
That’s what everyone says.
You hear their footsteps.
Their voice.
The way they used to call your name from another room.
But I knew David’s voice.
And what came from the basement wasn’t a memory.
It was real.
“Lena…”
I grabbed Sophie’s hand.
“Stay behind me.””
The voice disappeared.
Mr. Collins was still standing outside the front door.
“Sophie?”” he called.
“Open the door.””
I didn’t move.
“How did you know we were home?””
Silence.
Then he answered.
“I followed you.””
My eyes widened.
“You followed us from the funeral?””
“Mrs. Hayes, please. You don’t understand what you’re dealing with.””
I looked toward the basement.
The open door waited.
A secret inside my own house.
A secret my dead husband had tried to reveal.
And a man outside who was terrified I would find it.
“You knew about the basement,” I said.
Another pause.
“Yes.””
The honesty shocked me.
“Why didn’t you tell me?””
“Because David asked me not to.””
My grip tightened around Sophie’s hand.
“My husband asked you to keep a secret from me?””
“No.””
His voice lowered.
“He asked me to protect you.””
I almost laughed.
Protect me?
By hiding something beneath our home?
By letting me believe my husband died without knowing he was afraid?
I walked toward the door but stopped before unlocking it.
“Mr. Collins, what is inside that basement?””
His answer came immediately.
“Something David should have destroyed.””
My heart pounded.
“What does that mean?””
No response.
Then I heard his footsteps move away from the door.
I looked through the window.
He wasn’t leaving.
He was walking toward the side of the house.
Toward the basement entrance.
The outside basement entrance.
The one I had forgotten existed.
The one hidden behind the garden wall.
I rushed to the back door.
“Sophie, stay here.””
“No!””
Her voice surprised me.
She held onto my dress.
“Daddy told me not to let you go alone.””
I looked at my daughter.
Six years old.
Terrified.
But standing there because her father trusted her with something bigger than she understood.
I knelt down.
“Sophie, what else did Daddy tell you?””
She wiped her tears.
“He said Mr. Collins wasn’t the only person who wanted the door opened.””
My blood ran cold.
“What does that mean?””
She looked toward the basement.
“Daddy said someone was looking for what he hid.””
A sound came from outside.
Metal scraping.
The basement door.
Mr. Collins had opened it.
I moved toward the window.
Through the glass, I saw him standing beside the underground entrance.
But he wasn’t walking inside.
He was staring down into the darkness.
Like he was afraid of what was waiting below.
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
I couldn’t hear the voice on the other end.
But I watched his face change.
The same panic I saw at the funeral returned.
“No,” he whispered.
A moment passed.
Then he said:
“She found the drawing.””
My heart stopped.
Mr. Collins looked directly toward the house.
Directly toward me.
Then the person on the phone said something that made him drop his hand.
Because his next words were barely a whisper.
“David’s daughter knows about the door.””
I stepped back.
Sophie grabbed my hand.
“Mommy?””
I looked at the basement.
At the darkness.
At the place my husband had hidden from me.
And then I saw something on the ground beside the open entrance.
A small object.
Something familiar.
Something that had been missing since the day David died.
I opened the back door.
May you like
And before Mr. Collins could stop me, I walked toward the basement.
Because lying beside that black door was David’s wedding ring.
