Chapter 6: The Voice That Shouldn't Exist
The call lasted four seconds.
That was all.
Four seconds.
But I knew that voice.
I had heard it in old videos.
On birthday recordings.
In the voicemail Dad kept on an ancient phone because he couldn't bring himself to delete it.
My mother's voice.
“Maya?””
The phone went silent.
Vanessa dropped it.
I stared at her.
“Call her back.””
Nobody moved.
“Call her back!””
Dad picked up the phone.
The number was blocked.
“Who was that?”” he asked.
Vanessa shook her head.
“I don't know.””
“You expect us to believe that?””
“I swear.””
I grabbed her arm.
“You knew she was alive.””
Vanessa flinched.
“No.””
“You knew!””
“Maya, listen to me.””
“No!””
I pulled away.
“My mother is dead.””
“Yes.””
“Then how did she call me?””
Vanessa's eyes filled with tears.
“I don't know.””
Dad looked at Jonathan.
“Can someone trace this?””
Jonathan shook his head.
“Not from a blocked call without proper legal process.””
Dad took out his phone.
“I'll get the records.””
I paced the room.
My mind raced.
There had to be an explanation.
A recording.
An impersonator.
A prank.
Something.
Anything.
But that voice had said my name exactly the way my mother used to say it.
Softly.
With the tiny upward inflection at the end.
I had heard it thousands of times.
Dad sat down.
“Maya.””
I stopped.
“I need to tell you something.””
“What?””
He stared at the floor.
“The last night your mother was alive, she called me.””
I froze.
“You never told me that.””
“I know.””
“What did she say?””
“She said she was scared.””
“Of Daniel?””
Dad shook his head.
“No.””
“Then who?””
“She wouldn't say.””
I stepped closer.
“What happened?””
“She told me to come to the hospital immediately.””
“Did you?””
“Yes.””
“And?””
“She was unconscious when I arrived.””
I looked at Vanessa.
“Was she there?””
“Yes,” Vanessa whispered.
I turned back to Dad.
“You said you were alone with her.””
“I was.””
“You told me she died peacefully.””
Dad closed his eyes.
“I thought I was protecting you.””
My voice broke.
“What aren't you telling me?””
He opened his eyes.
“Your mother woke up once.””
I couldn't breathe.
“What?””
“For maybe thirty seconds.””
“What did she say?””
Dad swallowed.
“She asked where you were.””
I covered my mouth.
“Then she said something I didn't understand.””
“What?””
Dad looked at Vanessa.
“She said, ‘Don't let her go to the house.’”
My stomach twisted.
“What house?””
“The Coral Gables house.””
I stepped back.
“But you just said she wanted me to have it.””
“She did.””
“Then why tell you to keep me away?””
“I don't know.””
Jonathan suddenly stood.
“Wait.””
We all looked at him.
He walked to the file cabinet.
“There was a note attached to the original trust.””
He searched through several documents.
“Here.””
He pulled out a yellowed piece of paper.
“The handwriting is your mother's.””
He handed it to me.
I read it.
*The house is safe only while nobody knows what's beneath it.*
I looked up.
“What's beneath it?””
Jonathan shook his head.
“I don't know.””
Vanessa suddenly whispered, “I do.””
Dad turned.
“You knew?””
She nodded.
“Your mother told me.””
“What is it?””
Vanessa sat down.
“There's a basement.””
I frowned.
“Lots of houses have basements.””
“Not this one.””
She looked at me.
“It's hidden.””
Dad stood.
“Why didn't you tell me?””
“Because Lena made me promise.””
“Promise what?””
“Never to let anyone search for it.””
I stared at her.
“Then why did someone want me in Miami?””
Vanessa's lips trembled.
“Because they believe you know where the key is.””
“I don't.””
“I know.””
“Then why would they think that?””
She looked at my necklace.
My hand instinctively went to it.
It was a small silver locket.
My mother had given it to me on my ninth birthday.
I always wore it.
Dad noticed it too.
“Where did you get that?””
“My mom.””
He looked at Vanessa.
Vanessa whispered, “That's it.””
“What?””
“The key.””
I pulled the necklace off.
The locket was tiny.
Oval.
Silver.
I'd never been able to open it.
Dad took it carefully.
“There has to be a latch.””
He examined the edges.
Then pressed the back.
Click.
The locket opened.
Inside was a photograph of my mother.
And behind the photograph was a tiny brass key.
My breath caught.
Dad stared at it.
“Your mother gave you the key.””
I shook my head.
“I didn't know.””
Vanessa whispered, “Neither did they.””
“Who?””
She didn't answer.
Dad took the key.
There was something engraved on it.
*B-17.*
Jonathan frowned.
“What does B-17 mean?””
Vanessa's face suddenly changed.
“Basement seventeen.””
Dad stared at her.
“How many basements does the house have?””
“One.””
“Then what's seventeen?””
Vanessa shook her head.
“I don't know.””
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
A photograph appeared.
It showed the Coral Gables house.
The same house from my childhood memories.
But this photograph was different.
Someone had photographed the inside.
A hallway.
A wooden door.
And a brass number screwed into it.
*17.*
Below the picture was a message.
*Your mother left you the key. Now come get what she died protecting.*
Dad grabbed my phone.
“No.””
I looked at him.
“We're going.””
“No.””
“Dad.””
“Absolutely not.””
“That's my mother's house.””
“It may be a trap.””
“Then we'll take the police.””
He shook his head.
“We don't know who we can trust.””
Vanessa stood.
“I do.””
Dad looked at her.
She wiped her tears.
“There's one person your mother trusted completely.””
“Who?””
Vanessa reached into her purse.
She pulled out an old photograph.
It showed my mother beside a woman in a hospital hallway.
On the back was a name.
*Dr. Evelyn Hart.*
Dad stared at it.
“Who's she?””
Vanessa whispered, “Your wife's oncologist.””
I looked at the photograph.
Something about the woman seemed familiar.
Then I noticed a detail.
The date on the photograph was the day before my mother died.
And beside Dr. Hart, partially hidden by the hospital door, stood a man.
I zoomed in.
My hands began shaking.
It was Daniel Reeves.
The uncle everyone said was dead.
May you like
And underneath the photograph, written in my mother's handwriting, were six words:
*Daniel knows who really killed me.*
