Chapter 22 - THE SECOND BOX
I didn't open the door.
Instead, I called the police.
The man outside seemed to know.
"That's fine," he said.
"I expected you to do that."
Noah stared at me.
Then something happened.
The doorbell camera lit up.
I looked at the screen.
Arthur Bell stood calmly on the porch.
He was older than the photographs.
Gray hair.
A scar above his left eyebrow.
But there was no doubt.
It was him.
He raised the brown box toward the camera.
"This belongs to Noah."
My heart tightened.
"How do you know my son?"
He looked directly into the camera.
"Because I knew his grandfather."
Then he placed the box on the porch.
"I won't stay."
He turned.
I watched him walk toward the car.
But before getting inside, he stopped.
He looked back at the house.
"Tell Julian I'm sorry."
Then he drove away.
The police arrived eight minutes later.
They searched the neighborhood.
The box remained untouched.
One officer opened it carefully.
Inside was a photograph.
A key.
And a folded piece of paper.
The officer handed it to me.
I unfolded it.
There were only seven words.
YOUR GRANDFATHER DIDN'T DIE IN THAT ACCIDENT.
I stared at the sentence.
Noah looked over my shoulder.
"Mom?"
May you like
I couldn't answer.
Because suddenly, everything we thought we knew about my grandfather's death was wrong.
