Chapter 4: The Phone in the Locked Room
The phone stopped ringing the moment I touched it.
For three seconds, the room was completely silent.
Then it started again.
*AMY.*
I stared at the screen.
My wife was supposed to be at the hotel with Frederick.
She didn't know where I had gone.
At least, I hadn't told her.
“Mom,” I said slowly, “why does that phone have Amy's number?””
Teresa didn't answer.
She stood in the doorway, one hand gripping the frame.
“Give it to me.””
“No.””
“Connor.””
“You just received a call from Dad's name on your phone.””
Her face tightened.
“And now this phone is ringing with Amy's number.””
“Give it to me.””
I pressed answer.
“Hello?””
Nothing.
“Hello?””
Static.
Then I heard breathing.
Slow.
Unsteady.
“Amy?””
A woman's voice whispered, “Connor?””
I recognized it.
It was Amy.
I stood straighter.
“Where are you?””
A pause.
“Don't tell your mother I called.””
I looked at Teresa.
She had gone completely still.
“Why?””
“Because she doesn't know I'm at the house.””
My stomach dropped.
“What house?””
Silence.
Then Amy whispered, “Your father's house.””
I looked around the room.
“What are you talking about?””
“The house we live in.””
I felt the blood leave my face.
Teresa closed her eyes.
“Amy,” I said, “what happened before we bought our house?””
“You found the files?””
“Yes.””
“Which ones?””
“The trust. The refinancing agreement. The bank statements.””
Amy inhaled sharply.
“Then she knows I found them.””
“She?””
“Your mother.””
I glanced at Teresa.
She looked furious now.
“Amy, why did you call this phone?””
“Because I knew she'd never let me talk to you directly.””
“Why?””
“Because she has been recording our conversations.””
I looked at the old phone.
The cheap plastic case.
The cracked screen.
The blinking red light beside the microphone.
My skin prickled.
“Since when?””
“Since I moved in.””
“Why?””
“Because she wanted proof that I was ‘uncooperative.’”
Teresa stepped toward me.
“Connor, hang up.””
I raised a hand.
She stopped.
“Amy,” I said, “tell me everything.””
“I can't.””
“You can.””
“I tried before.””
“And I didn't listen.””
“You didn't know.””
“I should have.””
There was silence on the line.
Then Amy said, “Do you remember the year before we got married?””
“Yes.””
“Do you remember your father contacting you?””
I frowned.
“My father was already sick.””
“I know.””
“He called me sometimes.””
“No.””
“What?””
“He tried to call you every day.””
I felt my chest tighten.
“That isn't possible.””
“It is.””
“Why didn't I see those calls?””
“Because your mother changed the number.””
I turned toward Teresa.
She was pale.
“You're lying,” she said.
I ignored her.
“Amy, what did Dad want?””
“To warn you.””
“About what?””
“The house.””
I looked at the deed again.
“What was he warning me about?””
“He knew your mother was trying to take control of the property.””
Teresa stepped forward.
“Enough.””
I covered the phone.
“You've had six months to tell me the truth.””
“I've had six months to protect this family.””
“You call what you did to Amy protection?””
“She was taking advantage of you.””
“Amy was washing dishes while our sick child burned with fever.””
Teresa's voice rose.
“She was supposed to contribute!””
I uncovered the phone.
Amy had heard everything.
“Connor,” she whispered.
“I’m here.””
“I need you to listen carefully.””
“I am.””
“There is another document.””
“Where?””
“In the house.””
“I’m standing in the house.””
“Not that room.””
“Where?””
“The nursery.””
I frowned.
“The nursery?””
“Under the floor.””
Teresa's face changed.
I saw it.
Fear.
Real fear.
“Amy,” I said, “what's under the floor?””
“I don't know.””
“You don't know?””
“I only know your father told me about it.””
“When?””
“The week before our wedding.””
I closed my eyes.
“Why didn't you tell me?””
“Because your mother found out I knew.””
“And?””
“She told me if I spoke, she'd make sure you blamed me.””
I looked at Teresa.
“She told me you'd never believe your wife over your mother.””
Teresa whispered, “That's enough.””
I walked out of the room.
“Connor!”” she shouted.
I kept moving.
The nursery was at the other end of the hall.
Frederick's room.
The walls were painted pale blue.
A stuffed elephant sat beside the crib.
A framed photograph of Amy holding Frederick hung above the dresser.
I knelt.
The floorboards looked ordinary.
I ran my fingers over them.
Nothing.
Then I remembered something.
The house had always had one loose board near the closet.
I had meant to fix it.
I slid a butter knife beneath the edge.
The board lifted.
Underneath was a metal box.
My hands started shaking.
I pulled it out.
Teresa appeared behind me.
“Don't open that.””
I turned.
“Why?””
“Because you don't understand what you're doing.””
“Then explain.””
She said nothing.
I opened the box.
Inside was an envelope.
Brown.
Sealed.
My father's handwriting was across the front.
*For Connor. Only Connor.*
I tore it open.
There was one sheet of paper.
Three lines.
I read them once.
Then again.
*Connor, if you're reading this, your mother has already told you the house belongs to her. It doesn't.*
My breath caught.
The next line was worse.
*The money she claims she used to buy this property was never hers.*
I looked at Teresa.
She whispered my name.
I kept reading.
*I put the house into a trust for you because I knew what she would do when I was gone.*
At the bottom was a date.
Eight years ago.
The month before my father died.
And beneath it was another sentence.
*If Teresa ever tries to remove Amy from the house, show her the second envelope.*
I looked inside the box.
There was no second envelope.
I looked at Teresa.
“Where is it?””
She didn't respond.
“Mom.””
Her eyes filled with tears.
“I destroyed it.””
I froze.
“What did it say?””
She backed away.
“I was trying to protect you.””
“What did it say?””
Before she could answer, my phone rang.
Amy.
I answered immediately.
“Connor?””
“I'm here.””
Her voice was shaking.
“Get out of the house.””
“Why?””
“I just found something.””
“What?””
“I found the missing envelope.””
“Where?””
“In your mother's apartment.””
My eyes moved to Teresa.
May you like
Amy whispered:
“And Connor… your father's signature is on the back.””
