Chương 7
He stopped.
The list looked worse written down.
Not because it proved anything.
Because it proved how little he knew.
A knock came from the hallway.
Daniel closed the laptop immediately.
The sound came again.
“Daniel?”
He recognized the voice.
His neighbor, Frank.
Daniel opened the door halfway.
Frank stood there holding a grocery bag and wearing the same blue jacket he wore almost every day. The man was retired, but he dressed like someone might call him back to work at any moment.
“Your door was open earlier,” Frank said.
Daniel looked at him.
“What time?”
Frank frowned.
“I don’t know. Around four?”
Daniel glanced toward the kitchen clock.
It was almost seven.
“You didn’t think that was strange?”
“I did.”
Frank shifted the grocery bag.
“I also thought maybe you forgot. People forget things.”
“Did you see anyone?”
Frank looked uncomfortable.
That answer came before the words.
“I saw someone leave.”
Daniel stepped closer.
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did they look like?”
Frank sighed.
“This is where you’re going to be disappointed. I didn’t chase them down the hallway and memorize their face.”
Despite everything, Daniel almost smiled.
Frank noticed.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“That little thing you do.”
Daniel looked away.
“What thing?”
“You make a joke when you’re worried.”
“I didn’t make a joke.”
“You almost did.”
Frank had known him long enough to say things other people avoided.
Daniel opened the door wider.
“What did you see?”
Frank thought for a moment.
“Male. Maybe mid-forties. Dark jacket. Didn’t seem rushed.”
“Anything else?”
“He stopped near my door.”
Daniel went still.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did he knock?”
“No.”
Frank lowered his voice.
“He looked at the apartment numbers.”
The hallway suddenly felt smaller.
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
Frank looked embarrassed.
“Because I didn’t know if I was supposed to get involved.”
That answer irritated Daniel more than he expected.
But he understood it.
Everyone had limits. Everyone had a point where helping became risking.
“Did you tell the police?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Frank gave a tired laugh.
“Daniel, the police were already looking for a reason to talk to you. I wasn’t sure adding a guy wandering around your apartment building would help.”
The honesty of it took some of the anger out of Daniel.
Frank looked toward the kitchen.
“Are you in trouble?”
Daniel almost said no.
The answer was automatic.
It was what he had told Emily. What he had told himself.
Instead, he said, “I don’t know.”
Frank nodded slowly.
“That sounds more honest.”
After Frank left, Daniel stood in the doorway longer than he needed to.
The hallway smelled like someone’s dinner. Garlic. Something fried. A television played loudly behind another apartment wall.
Normal things.
That was the strange part.
The world did not announce when it changed.
It just kept going.
Daniel returned to the table and opened his laptop again.
This time, he searched differently.
Not for the warehouse.
For his father.
Thomas Mercer.
The results were limited.
A few old records.
A funeral notice.
A business article mentioning a company that had closed years ago.
Daniel stared at the screen.
The company name was familiar.
Mercer Data Services.
He had heard it before.
Not recently.
Years ago.
A memory surfaced, but not completely.
A kitchen.
His father standing near the counter.
A folder in his hand.
Daniel had been younger. Not a child, but young enough that he still believed adults knew what they were doing.
His father had said something.
Not the words.
The tone.
A warning.
The memory disappeared before he could grab it.
Daniel rubbed his eyes.
He hated that.
The missing pieces were worse than a bad memory. A bad memory still belonged to him.
These felt removed.
Like someone had taken a page out of a book and left him holding the cover.
His phone buzzed.
Emily.
He answered.
“Please tell me you called a lawyer.”
“Hello to you too.”
“Daniel.”
“I’m fine.”
“No.”
He paused.
Her voice softened.
“No, you’re not.”
Daniel looked at the box.
“I found something.”
A silence followed.
Not surprise.
Fear.
“What?”
“Things from the night Dad died.”
Emily did not answer immediately.
That bothered him.
“Emily?”
“I thought you got rid of those.”
Daniel sat down.
“What?”
“The things from that night.”
“What things?”
The silence stretched.
Then Emily said, “Daniel, what do you mean what things?”
He stood.
“Tell me.”
“I don’t know if I should.”
“That is not an answer.”
“No, it’s the answer.”
Her voice changed.
The defensive edge disappeared.
“I was sixteen.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
He had forgotten that.
Emily had been sixteen.
He had been twenty-two.
Old enough to become responsible for her.
Young enough to have no idea what responsibility actually meant.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you didn’t remember.”
The words landed harder than he expected.
“I remember Dad died.”
“I know.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“I’m saying you remember what happened after.”
Daniel looked at the watch on the table.
Not before.
Not during.
After.
“What happened before?”
Emily breathed in.
“Daniel, who gave you that box?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did they call you?”
“Yes.”
“Did they say Dad’s name?”
He hesitated.
“No.”
Another silence.
“Then they’re not telling you everything.”
The certainty in her voice made him uncomfortable.
“How do you know?”
“Because the person who called me three years ago said the same thing.”
Daniel froze.
“What person?”
“I don’t know.”
“Emily.”
“I told you. Someone called. They asked questions about you.”
“You never mentioned this.”
“You never asked.”
That hurt because it was true.
Daniel had spent years avoiding the parts of his family history that made Emily uncomfortable. After their father’s death, he had become the person who handled things. Bills. Paperwork. Appointments.
He had confused being useful with being close.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because every time I tried, you changed the subject.”
Daniel opened his mouth.
May you like
Nothing came out.
A small sound came through the phone.
