Chương 6
A teenager rode past on a bicycle wearing headphones.
A woman collected packages from her front steps.
People were living normal lives while his own had split open in the middle of the kitchen.
“Who is this man?” he asked.
Claire shook her head.
“He never gave me a name.”
“Did he threaten you?”
“No.”
“Did he threaten Eli?”
“No.”
Daniel turned.
“Then why is my son afraid?”
Claire looked toward the hallway.
“Because he heard us fighting.”
“That’s not enough.”
“I know.”
The answer came immediately.
“I know.”
She pressed her fingers against her forehead.
“He was angry.”
“Who?”
“The man.”
“What about?”
“He thought I was hiding something.”
“What?”
Claire looked at him.
“You.”
Daniel stared.
“He thought I was hiding something about you.”
“What?”
“I don’t know.”
Again.
The same impossible answer.
Daniel walked back toward the table.
“Everyone keeps saying they don’t know.”
Nobody responded.
Because everyone knew it was true.
They were surrounded by pieces.
Nobody had the whole thing.
“Where is the notebook now?” Daniel asked.
Jenna answered through the phone.
“I don’t know.”
Daniel almost lost control.
“Stop saying that.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No.”
He took a breath.
“I’m sorry.”
The apology surprised even him.
He leaned against the wall.
“I’m just tired of being the last person who knows what’s happening to my own family.”
Jenna’s voice softened.
“Daniel.”
“What?”
“There’s something else.”
He closed his eyes.
Of course there was.
“What?”
“When Claire called me tonight.”
Daniel looked at Claire.
“She didn’t call you tonight.”
“She called me before she called you.”
Claire’s face changed.
Daniel noticed.
“What did she tell you?”
Jenna hesitated.
“She said Eli found something.”
Daniel looked at his son.
“What did he find?”
Nobody answered.
Then Eli spoke from the hallway.
“The box.”
All three adults turned.
Daniel’s heart dropped.
“What box?”
Eli held the blue sweatshirt tighter.
“The box under the bed.”
Claire stood.
“Eli.”
The boy stepped back.
“I’m sorry.”
Daniel moved between them without thinking.
Not because he believed Claire would hurt him.
Because Eli looked like he expected someone to stop him.
“Buddy,” Daniel said, “what box?”
“It was in Mom’s room.”
Claire went pale.
“Eli, you weren’t supposed to go through my things.”
“I was looking for my Lego piece.”
“What box?”
The boy looked at Daniel.
“It had Grandpa’s name on it.”
Daniel felt every muscle in his body tense.
“When did you see it?”
“Last week.”
“What was inside?”
“I don’t know.”
“You opened it?”
Eli nodded.
“What did you see?”
The boy looked at Claire.
Then at Daniel.
“A picture.”
“What picture?”
“Dad.”
His voice shook.
“A picture of you.”
Daniel frowned.
“What kind of picture?”
Eli’s eyes filled with tears.
“One where you were with that man.”
The room went completely still.
Daniel looked at Claire.
She looked just as confused as he felt.
“I’ve never seen him before,” Daniel said.
Eli shook his head.
“Yes, you have.”
The boy wiped his face.
“You just don’t remember.”
Daniel felt the words before he understood them.
“You just don’t remember.”
The sentence stayed in the air.
Not dramatic.
Not loud.
Just impossible.
“Eli,” Daniel said carefully, “what picture are you talking about?”
The boy looked toward the hallway.
“I don’t know.”
Daniel almost laughed from frustration, but he stopped himself.
The same phrase kept appearing from everyone around him, and every time it felt like another wall going up.
“You saw a picture of me with this man?”
Eli nodded.
“Where was it?”
“In the box.”
“What did it look like?”
Eli frowned, trying to reach back into the memory.
“It was old.”
“How old?”
“I don’t know.”
“Was I a kid?”
Eli shook his head.
“You looked like now.”
Daniel felt his chest tighten.
“That’s not possible.”
Claire stood slowly.
“Daniel.”
“No.”
He turned toward her.
“I need to know.”
She stopped.
Not because he sounded angry.
Because he sounded afraid.
“When was the last time you went through your father’s things?” he asked.
Claire looked at the floor.
“After he died.”
“And you?”
She shook her head.
“Not really.”
“Why?”
“Because every time I opened something, it felt like I was stealing from him.”
Daniel looked toward the staircase.
His father’s old storage boxes were still in the garage.
Untouched.
Or at least he thought they were.
“I’m going to see the box,” Daniel said.
Claire stood.
“Not tonight.”
“Why?”
“Because Eli is scared.”
“I’m not leaving.”
“I didn’t say leave.”
The response surprised him.
Claire walked over to Eli and knelt.
“Buddy, can you go to your room for a few minutes?”
Eli looked at Daniel.
“Am I in trouble?”
Daniel’s face changed immediately.
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
Too urgently.
“No, you’re not.”
Eli nodded.
He walked down the hallway slowly.
Neither adult spoke until his door closed.
Then Claire whispered, “He thinks every truth costs him something.”
Daniel looked at her.
“You do too.”
She looked away.
The accusation landed because it was not entirely wrong.
“I need to understand what happened.”
“So do I.”
“Then stop protecting pieces of it.”
Claire looked back.
“You think I wanted this?”
“No.”
The answer came honestly.
“That’s the problem.”
She stared at him.
“You still think I’m the person who would hurt him.”
“I think you’re the person who knows more than you’re telling me.”
A tired sadness crossed her face.
“Those are not the same thing.”
“No.”
Daniel looked toward the hallway.
“But right now they feel the same.”
The garage door was stiff from years of humidity.
Daniel had to put his shoulder against it to get it open.
The familiar smell hit him immediately.
Oil.
Dust.
Old wood.
His father’s world.
For years, Daniel had avoided this place because everything inside it felt unfinished.
A half-built shelf leaned against one wall.
Tools hung in exact rows.
May you like
A coffee mug with a faded baseball logo sat on the workbench.
His father had been gone four years, but the garage still looked like he might walk in complaining about somebody moving his wrench.
