Chapter 5: The Voice in the Darkness
The basement door was colder than it should have been.
That was the first thing I noticed.
My fingers wrapped around the old metal handle, and a chill traveled through my hand.
It wasn’t just cold.
It felt untouched.
Like this door had been waiting years for someone to open it.
Behind me, Sophie held onto my dress.
Mr. Collins stood frozen a few feet away.
“Lena,” he said quietly.
I didn’t turn.
“What?””
“Whatever happens next, remember one thing.””
I looked over my shoulder.
“What?””
His face was filled with regret.
“David loved you.””
The words confused me.
“What does that have to do with anything?””
Before he could answer, my phone rang.
The sound made everyone jump.
I pulled it out.
Unknown number.
Again.
I answered.
“Who is this?””
A woman’s voice replied.
“Are you with Collins?””
I looked at him.
My silence was enough.
The woman continued.
“Listen to me carefully. Do not let him open that door.””
My grip tightened around the phone.
“Who are you?””
“You don’t have time for questions.””
“I have plenty of questions.””
A shaky breath came through the speaker.
“David tried to tell you.””
My heart stopped.
“How do you know my husband?””
The woman didn’t answer.
Instead, she said:
“He knew Collins was protecting the wrong thing.””
The call ended.
I stared at the phone.
Mr. Collins looked at me.
“Who was that?””
“You tell me.””
His expression changed.
“You heard her?””
“Yes.””
“What did she say?””
I stepped closer.
“She said you were protecting the wrong thing.””
The color disappeared from his face.
Before he could respond, something moved inside the basement.
A scrape.
Then another.
Sophie buried her face against me.
“Mommy…”
I wrapped my arm around her.
“It’s okay.””
But I knew it wasn’t.
I opened the door.
The smell hit me first.
Old wood.
Dust.
And something else.
Something metallic.
The basement stairs disappeared into darkness.
I turned on my phone flashlight.
The beam moved downward.
One step.
Two.
Three.
At the bottom was a room I had never seen.
My house had always had a basement.
But this wasn’t just storage.
This was hidden.
There were shelves.
Boxes.
Old documents.
Photographs.
And a small wooden table in the center.
On that table sat a recorder.
A simple black voice recorder.
My heart started racing.
Because I recognized it.
David used one exactly like it when he worked.
I stepped closer.
“Don’t touch that.””
Mr. Collins’ voice was behind me.
I turned.
He was standing at the top of the stairs.
“You knew this was here.””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
His eyes filled with pain.
“Because David gave it to me.””
I stared at him.
“What?””
“He told me if anything happened, I was supposed to destroy everything in this room.””
My stomach dropped.
“And you didn’t.””
“No.””
“Why?””
Mr. Collins looked down.
“Because I couldn’t.””
The answer was almost a confession.
I walked toward the table.
The recorder waited.
Like David had left it there knowing I would eventually find it.
I pressed play.
For a second, there was only static.
Then his voice.
“Lena.””
My knees almost gave out.
Sophie gasped.
“Daddy?””
The recording continued.
“If you’re hearing this, it means I wasn’t able to explain everything myself.””
I covered my mouth.
David sounded tired.
Not scared.
Tired.
“I need you to listen carefully.””
A pause.
Then:
“Do not trust anyone who tells you I died because of an accident.””
My blood turned cold.
I looked at Mr. Collins.
He looked away.
The recording continued.
“I made mistakes. I trusted people I shouldn’t have trusted.””
Another pause.
Then David whispered:
“But the person who betrayed me is closer than you think.””
The recording stopped.
Silence filled the basement.
Sophie looked at me.
“Mommy…”
I couldn’t move.
Because I knew what the message meant.
Someone close to David had betrayed him.
Someone who knew about this room.
Someone who knew about the recorder.
Someone who had access to our home.
I slowly turned toward Mr. Collins.
His face was unreadable.
“Who betrayed him?””
He didn’t answer.
“Mr. Collins.””
Still nothing.
Then he looked at the recorder.
And whispered:
“You need to hear the rest.””
My heart pounded.
“There’s more?””
He nodded.
“But David didn’t leave it here.””
“Where is it?””
Mr. Collins looked toward the basement wall.
At a place covered by old shelves.
Then he said:
“He hid the second recording where nobody would ever think to look.””
I followed his eyes.
And saw something carved into the wooden wall.
A name.
Not David’s.
Not mine.
May you like
Someone else’s.
A name I recognized.
