Chapter 6: The Name on the Wall
I stared at the carving.
The letters were small.
Almost hidden.
Like whoever made them didn’t want to be discovered.
But I knew that name.
I knew it because I had said it hundreds of times.
Because I had invited that person into my home.
Because I had trusted them with my family.
My hand moved toward the wall.
“No.””
Mr. Collins’ voice stopped me.
I turned.
“What?””
“Don’t touch it.””
“Why?””
His eyes moved between me and the carving.
“Because David didn’t put that name there as a memory.””
My stomach tightened.
“Then why?””
Mr. Collins looked away.
“As a warning.””
The basement suddenly felt smaller.
The walls seemed closer.
I looked at the name again.
My own sister’s name.
Maya.
My sister.
The person who held my hand at the hospital.
The person who cried beside me when David died.
The person who told me she would help raise Sophie if I ever felt like I couldn’t do it alone.
No.
It couldn’t be.
“That’s impossible.””
Mr. Collins said nothing.
I turned on him.
“You’re accusing my sister?””
“No.””
“Then explain why her name is carved into my wall.””
His silence angered me.
“Say something.””
He took a slow breath.
“David didn’t believe Maya was the person responsible.””
“Then what did he believe?””
Mr. Collins looked toward the ceiling.
“Lena, your husband was investigating something before he died.””
“What?””
“Something involving your family.””
I shook my head.
“No.””
“Yes.””
“You’re lying.””
“I wish I was.””
The anger in his voice surprised me.
For a moment, I saw something different.
Not fear.
Pain.
“I spent twenty years protecting David,” he said.
“I watched him build that house. I watched him love you. I watched him hold Sophie the night she was born.””
His voice cracked.
“And I watched him realize someone close to him was destroying everything.””
I looked at the recorder.
“Who?””
Mr. Collins didn’t answer.
That was the problem.
Everyone had secrets.
David.
Mr. Collins.
Maya.
Maybe even me.
Because suddenly, I wondered what else my husband had hidden from me.
The recorder sat on the table.
I picked it up.
“There’s another message.””
Mr. Collins nodded.
“Yes.””
“Where?””
He pointed toward the far wall.
“There.””
Behind a row of dusty boxes was a small metal compartment.
I pulled it open.
Inside was another recorder.
But this one was different.
It had a label.
A date.
The date David died.
My hands shook.
I pressed play.
Static.
Then David’s voice.
But this time, he sounded different.
Urgent.
“If you found this, it means they already know.””
I froze.
They.
Not one person.
They.
David continued.
“Lena, I need you to understand something. The person who caused this is not the person you think.””
I looked at Mr. Collins.
His face was pale.
“I tried to protect you from the truth because I thought keeping you away from it would keep you safe.””
David paused.
Then:
“I was wrong.””
A sound came from the recording.
Like he had moved closer to the microphone.
“Do not go to the police yet.””
My eyes widened.
“Why?””
David continued.
“Because there is someone inside law enforcement helping them.””
The basement became silent.
Sophie squeezed my hand.
I barely felt it.
David’s voice lowered.
“And the person you trust most…”
Static interrupted.
The recording cracked.
I leaned closer.
“David?””
The sound returned.
One final sentence.
“The person you trust most is the one who opened the basement door.””
The recording ended.
Nobody spoke.
Not me.
Not Mr. Collins.
Not even Sophie.
Because slowly…
very slowly…
we all turned toward the open basement door.
The door that had been locked.
The door only one person could have opened.
The door behind us.
And standing at the top of the stairs was someone holding a spare key.
May you like
Someone who should never have been there.
My sister Maya.
