Chapter 8: The Secret Under My Bed
I spent the entire night staring at the ceiling.
My childhood bedroom.
The same room where my mother tapped three times every night.
The same room where I kept toys, drawings, and memories.
The same room where my father had hidden something that could destroy powerful people.
I returned home with my parents the next morning.
The police searched carefully.
Every drawer.
Every shelf.
Every corner.
But I already knew where to look.
My bed.
I sat on the edge of it.
My father stood nearby.
“When you were little, you had a loose floorboard under here.””
I looked at him.
“How do you know that?””
He smiled sadly.
“Because I fixed it.””
I moved the bed aside.
Near the wall was a small wooden panel.
I had forgotten about it.
But suddenly, I remembered.
When I was six, I found a tiny box underneath.
My mother told me it was a secret treasure.
I thought it was a game.
I removed the panel.
Inside was a small metal container.
My hands shook.
The key fit.
Click.
The box opened.
Inside were papers.
A flash drive.
And an old voice recorder.
My father picked up the recorder.
“This is it.””
The police officer connected it.
A voice filled the room.
My father’s voice.
Years younger.
“If you’re hearing this, something happened to me.””
Everyone became silent.
The recording continued.
“Claire, if you found this, don’t trust anyone connected to Richard.””
My mother covered her mouth.
The recording continued.
“The evidence proves what they did. But the most important thing is the person who helped him.””
A pause.
Then my father said:
“Because the person closest to us is the one they will never suspect.””
I looked at my mother.
She looked terrified.
The recording continued.
“Richard had help from someone in our family.””
My heart sank.
The police officer looked at the papers.
Then suddenly, his phone rang.
He answered.
A few seconds later, his face changed.
“What?””
My father stood.
“What happened?””
The officer looked at me.
“We found Richard.””
Everyone froze.
“Where?””
The officer swallowed.
“He’s not running anymore.””
My mother stepped forward.
“Then where is he?””
The officer looked down.
“He turned himself in.””
That made no sense.
A man who threatened everyone with a gun.
A man who escaped custody.
Why would he surrender?
The officer continued.
“He said he wants to make a deal.””
My father frowned.
“A deal for what?””
The officer looked at the flash drive in my hand.
“He claims he knows who really planned your mother’s murder.””
The room went silent.
I thought we already knew.
Richard.
Maria.
The people who betrayed us.
But then the officer said something that made my blood turn cold.
“He says the person you’re protecting…”
He looked at my mother.
“…is the person who started all of this.””
My mother stepped backward.
“No.””
The officer continued.
“Richard says Claire Parker wasn’t his target.””
Everyone stared.
“Then who was?””
The officer looked at me.
And before he could answer…
the lights went out.
In the darkness, my mother grabbed my hand.
Then I heard it.
Three taps.
But they weren’t coming from a door.
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They weren’t coming from a coffin.
They were coming from inside the house.
