Chapter 2: The Woman Who Came Upstairs
Her name was Patricia Wells.
She had represented Margaret and me for nearly twenty years.
She had prepared our wills, handled the purchase of our vacation property, and helped us establish a small family trust for our grandchildren.
She had also stood beside me at Margaret's funeral.
I remembered her holding my elbow while the minister spoke.
I remembered her telling me that Margaret had made certain arrangements to protect the family.
I had never asked what those arrangements were.
Now I was beginning to wish I had.
"Claire," I called.
She came back into the living room holding Lily's pink coat.
"What is it?""
I showed her the video.
Her face changed immediately.
"That's Patricia.""
"Yes.""
"Why was she here?""
"I intend to find out.""
Claire sat beside me and watched the recording again.
Patricia entered the upstairs hallway at 2:14 p.m.
Daniel disconnected the camera.
The attorney looked around nervously before handing him the folder.
Daniel opened it.
They spoke for several seconds.
Then Patricia pointed toward the bedroom at the end of the hallway.
Daniel shook his head.
Patricia said something else.
He finally nodded.
The video ended.
Claire looked at me.
"That was Mom's old bedroom.""
"I know.""
"Why would they be going through her things?""
I didn't answer.
Instead, I called Patricia.
She answered after five rings.
"Thomas! What a lovely surprise.""
Her voice was warm, almost cheerful.
"Patricia, I need to ask you something.""
"Of course.""
"Were you at my house this afternoon?""
Silence.
It lasted only two seconds.
But I heard it.
"Why would you ask that?""
"Because my security camera recorded you.""
Another pause.
Then she gave a small laugh.
"Oh, Thomas. I stopped by briefly to drop off some paperwork for Daniel.""
"What paperwork?""
"Nothing you need to concern yourself with tonight.""
I gripped the phone.
"Patricia, I'm the owner of this house. If paperwork involving my family is being delivered here, I believe I have every reason to concern myself with it.""
Her voice became noticeably colder.
"You're upset. I understand. Perhaps we should discuss this when things have settled down.""
"Did you enter Margaret's bedroom?""
"Thomas—"
"Did you?""
She sighed.
"Yes.""
"Why?""
"I'd rather not discuss that over the phone.""
"Then come here tomorrow morning.""
"I don't think that's wise.""
"Why?""
"Because Daniel has asked me to handle certain matters privately.""
I looked at Claire.
She was listening carefully.
"Certain matters involving whom?""
"Your son.""
"Not me?""
Another silence.
"Good night, Thomas.""
The call ended.
I stared at the phone.
Claire shook her head.
"She's hiding something.""
"I know.""
"Should we call another lawyer?""
I looked toward Margaret's photograph.
"Tomorrow.""
That night, I didn't sleep.
At 1:30 a.m., I sat in Margaret's old reading chair with a cup of cold tea.
The house felt different.
Every familiar sound seemed suspicious.
The refrigerator humming.
The pipes settling.
The grandfather clock ticking downstairs.
I kept thinking about Ethan.
He had asked whether I was going to lose my house.
A nine-year-old boy shouldn't have to worry about something like that.
And he shouldn't have been frightened of telling his grandfather what his parents were doing.
At 2:07 a.m., my phone vibrated again.
It was a message from an unknown number.
Stop looking at the cameras. You don't understand what you're getting yourself into.
I read it twice.
Then I took a screenshot.
A second message arrived.
Daniel is trying to protect his family. Don't destroy everything because you're lonely.
I sat very still.
The sender knew about the cameras.
They knew about Daniel.
And they knew I was alone.
I called Claire.
She answered immediately.
"Dad?""
"Did you send me a message?""
"No. Why?""
I read it to her.
Her voice became sharp.
"Don't respond. Save everything.""
"Who could it be?""
"I don't know. But Dad, lock your doors.""
I checked the front entrance.
Then the back door.
Both were locked.
I returned to the living room and opened the security application.
The system showed the cameras as active again.
But when I tried to access the upstairs hallway, a message appeared.
Administrator permissions required.
I frowned.
I had always been the administrator.
I tried again.
Access denied.
Someone had changed my permissions.
I called Robert.
He didn't answer.
So I left a message and waited.
At 7:15 a.m., a knock came at the front door.
I opened it to find Daniel standing on the porch.
He held two coffees.
For a moment, I saw the little boy who used to bring me toast on Sunday mornings.
Then he smiled.
"Morning, Dad.""
I didn't move.
"What do you want?""
He held up one coffee.
"Can we talk?""
"About what?""
"Last night.""
I stepped aside.
He entered and placed the coffee on the kitchen counter.
"Look, I shouldn't have pushed you.""
"You're right.""
"I'm sorry.""
He said it quickly.
Almost impatiently.
I studied him.
He looked tired. His shirt was wrinkled, and there were dark circles beneath his eyes.
"Where's Mia?""
"At home.""
"And the children?""
"With her.""
"Are they all right?""
"Yes.""
I nodded.
"Good.""
Daniel leaned against the counter.
"Listen, Dad. Mia's been under a lot of stress. She hasn't been sleeping. She's been having panic attacks.""
"Then why did she accuse me of attacking her?""
"She misunderstood what happened.""
"She slapped herself.""
His expression hardened.
"That's enough.""
I looked at him.
"Is it?""
He pulled a chair out and sat down.
"You're getting old. You don't realize how things look sometimes.""
I almost smiled.
There it was again.
The same excuse.
"Daniel, I remember what happened.""
"Then why are you making such a big deal out of it?""
"Because your wife accused me of assault.""
"She was frightened.""
"Of me?""
He rubbed his forehead.
"Can we stop going in circles?""
I sat opposite him.
"Why was Patricia here yesterday?""
He froze.
Only briefly.
But I saw it.
"She dropped off some documents.""
"What documents?""
"Family paperwork.""
"Why did she enter your mother's bedroom?""
His coffee cup stopped halfway to his mouth.
"Who told you that?""
"The camera.""
He put the cup down.
"That camera is broken.""
"Robert says otherwise.""
"Robert doesn't know anything about our family.""
"Apparently, he knows enough to see someone disconnected my cameras.""
Daniel leaned forward.
"Listen carefully. You need to stop investigating things that don't concern you.""
I looked at my son for a long moment.
Then I asked the question I had been avoiding.
"What are you trying to take from me?""
His face went pale.
"Nothing.""
"Then why did you tell Patricia to come here?""
"She came to help.""
"Help with what?""
He stood abruptly.
"Forget it. I shouldn't have come.""
He reached for his jacket.
"Daniel.""
He stopped.
"Sit down.""
He turned slowly.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
Then he pulled the chair out again.
I had never spoken to him that way before.
"Your mother left this house to me," I said.
"She left the family trust to protect our grandchildren. If there's something involving those arrangements, I deserve to know.""
Daniel stared at the table.
"Mom didn't understand what was happening near the end.""
My stomach tightened.
"What does that mean?""
"She was confused.""
"Your mother was sharp until her final week.""
"She forgot things.""
"Everyone forgets things.""
"She signed papers without understanding them.""
The kitchen seemed to grow colder.
I leaned forward.
"What papers?""
Daniel looked toward the window.
"There's a document that needs to be corrected.""
"What document?""
He reached into his jacket and removed a folded sheet.
He pushed it across the table.
It was a photocopy of a legal document.
At the top was Margaret's name.
Below it was a statement concerning the ownership of our house.
I read the first paragraph.
Then the second.
My hands began to shake.
The document claimed Margaret had transferred her share of the property into a trust controlled by Daniel.
At the bottom was a signature.
Margaret's signature.
But something was wrong.
I knew my wife's handwriting better than my own.
She always crossed the letter T with a short, firm stroke.
This signature had a long sweeping line.
And the date printed beside it was three months after Margaret had died.
I looked up.
"Where did you get this?""
Daniel didn't answer.
"Daniel, your mother was dead when this was supposedly signed.""
He swallowed.
"There's an explanation.""
I pushed the document away.
"Then explain it.""
He stared at me.
For the first time, his confidence disappeared.
"Patricia said she could fix it.""
"Fix what?""
He lowered his voice.
"The original paperwork.""
I stood.
"Get out.""
"Dad—"
"Get out of my house.""
He looked genuinely angry now.
"You don't understand what you've done.""
"I haven't done anything.""
"You think Claire is helping you? She's the reason this family is falling apart.""
"Don't bring your sister into this.""
"She wants the house.""
I shook my head.
"Claire has her own home.""
"She wants what Mom left behind.""
I walked toward the front door and opened it.
"Leave.""
Daniel picked up his jacket.
Before stepping outside, he turned back.
"One day, Dad, you'll wish you'd listened to me.""
I watched him walk down the path.
Then I closed the door.
My phone rang almost immediately.
It was Robert.
"Mr. Bennett, I found something.""
"What?""
"The footage from yesterday wasn't the only thing we recovered.""
I sat down.
"What else?""
"There's a recording from four nights ago. The upstairs hallway camera was active for approximately eleven minutes before someone disconnected it.""
"Can you send it?""
"I already have.""
A video appeared on my phone.
I pressed play.
The footage showed Daniel entering Margaret's bedroom.
He was carrying a flashlight.
He opened the wardrobe, removed several boxes, and placed them on the bed.
Then he pulled out a small wooden jewelry box.
I recognized it immediately.
Margaret had kept her wedding ring in that box.
Daniel opened it.
He stared inside.
Then he picked up something small and held it toward the light.
A USB drive.
He slipped it into his pocket.
But the most disturbing part came next.
Daniel walked to the bedside table and opened the bottom drawer.
He removed a white envelope.
On the front, in Margaret's handwriting, were four words:
*FOR THOMAS. OPEN ALONE.*
Daniel read them.
May you like
Then he looked directly toward the camera.
And smiled.
