Chapter 2 - The silver key
I didn't interrogate my six-year-old.
I got her away from Nora.
That came first.
My sister Rachel lived ten minutes away. She arrived quickly and took Lily upstairs while I dealt with the immediate situation.
The cup and liquid were left untouched for proper examination.
Nora stayed in the dining room.
“You're going to explain everything.”
“I will.”
“Start with why you grabbed Lily.”
“Because she wasn't supposed to know.”
“Know what?”
Nora pressed both hands against the table.
“That someone has been coming into this house.”
I stared.
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No.”
At least she understood.
Then she explained the key.
Three weeks earlier, Nora found it beneath the dining-room rug.
She assumed it belonged to an old cabinet.
It didn't.
Two days later, it disappeared.
Apparently Lily had taken it.
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
Rachel brought Lily downstairs.
I crouched in front of her.
“Sweetheart, where did you get the key?”
Lily looked at Nora.
Then at me.
“The lady gave it to me.”
Every adult in the room went silent.
“What lady?”
“The one who comes when you're working.”
I looked at Nora.
She shook her head.
“Daniel, I've never heard this.”
“What does she look like?”
Lily thought.
“Old.”
“How old?”
Six-year-olds aren't reliable age estimators.
“Like Grandma?”
She shook her head.
“Younger.”
Helpful enough.
“What did she say?”
“That the key was Mommy's.”
My chest tightened.
Lily's mother, Claire, had died four years earlier.
Car accident.
No mystery.
No disputed body.
No conspiracy.
I had buried my wife.
“Mommy owned this key?”
Lily nodded.
“The lady said Mommy hid something.”
“Where?”
Lily pointed.
Not toward a cabinet.
Toward the wall behind my chair.
I moved the chair.
There was decorative walnut paneling behind it.
I'd looked at that wall thousands of times.
Now I noticed a tiny keyhole hidden inside the carved trim.
The silver key fit.
A narrow panel clicked open.
Inside was a small envelope.
Claire's handwriting was on the front.
DANIEL.
My hands began shaking.
Nora stepped backward.
“Daniel…”
“What?”
“I've seen that envelope before.”
I turned.
“When?”
May you like
Her answer landed harder than the slap I'd given her.
“The night Claire died.”
