Chương 9
“What was in it?”
“I never saw.”
Lena leaned back slightly.
“You never asked?”
“I did.”
“And?”
“She told me it was better if I didn’t know.”
“That is not an answer.”
“No.”
Daniel rubbed his hands together.
“They were the exact words she used.”
“What else did she say?”
He stared at the floor.
For a moment, the kitchen was replaced by another room.
A younger version of himself.
A younger Rebecca standing beside his apartment door.
Her hair tied back messily.
Her jacket soaked from the rain.
A folder pressed against her chest like she was afraid someone would take it.
She had smiled when she saw him.
Not because she was happy.
Because she was trying to make him less worried.
That was something Rebecca did.
She made fear look smaller when other people were carrying it.
“She said she made a mistake,” Daniel said.
“What kind of mistake?”
“She didn’t say.”
“Daniel.”
“I know how it sounds.”
“It sounds like you have spent twelve years protecting a conversation that might explain why someone disappeared.”
The words landed harder because they were true.
Daniel looked at the window.
The neighbor across the street was outside now, pretending to collect mail while watching them.
“She told me someone was lying,” he said quietly.
“Who?”
“She didn’t name them.”
“Did she say who she trusted?”
Daniel swallowed.
“Yes.”
“Who?”
He looked at Lena.
And for the first time since she arrived, he saw something change in her expression.
Not curiosity.
Not suspicion.
Concern.
“Your question already has an answer, doesn’t it?” Daniel said.
Lena looked down at her notebook.
“No.”
“You know something.”
“I know the case file.”
“That is not what I asked.”
The officer stayed quiet.
Daniel almost laughed.
Not because anything was funny.
Because twelve years ago, Rebecca had warned him about people who answered questions by changing the subject.
“Who was the last person officially documented as seeing Rebecca?” Daniel asked.
Lena did not answer immediately.
That was enough.
Daniel stood up.
“Who?”
“Daniel.”
“Who?”
She closed the notebook.
“Your brother.”
The room went still.
Daniel felt the blood leave his face.
“No.”
“His statement is in the file.”
“No.”
“Daniel.”
“My brother hated her.”
“That is not what I said.”
“He hated everyone who got close to me after my divorce.”
Lena watched him carefully.
“Why?”
Daniel looked at the hallway.
There was an old photograph hanging there.
A picture of him, his brother Michael, and their father standing beside a fishing boat they never owned.
The boat belonged to a neighbor.
His father had asked if they could stand beside it because he wanted one picture where they looked like the kind of family that had money.
Daniel had forgotten that until now.
“Michael thought Rebecca knew too much about our family,” he said.
“About what?”
Daniel did not answer.
Because the truth was embarrassing.
Not dangerous.
Not dramatic.
Just embarrassing.
His father had spent years pretending to be successful after his business failed.
He borrowed money from friends.
He lied to relatives.
He hid unpaid bills in drawers.
Michael inherited that instinct.
Daniel ran from it.
Rebecca noticed it.
“She knew my father had falsified some financial records before he died,” Daniel said.
Lena wrote something down.
“Was that connected to her disappearance?”
“I don’t know.”
“But you think it might be.”
“I think Rebecca thought it was.”
The distinction bothered Lena.
Daniel could see it.
“You are still protecting people,” she said.
Daniel looked at her.
“I am trying to remember things correctly.”
“Those are not always the same.”
He wanted to argue.
Instead, he walked to the sink and filled a glass of water.
His hand shook slightly.
He hated that Lena noticed.
When he turned around, she was looking at the notebook.
“What happened to your brother after Rebecca disappeared?” she asked.
“He left town.”
“Why?”
“He said people were blaming him.”
“Were they?”
Daniel drank the water.
“Yes.”
“Were you?”
The question stayed between them.
Daniel put the glass down.
“I don’t know.”
Lena nodded slowly.
That answer seemed to matter more than anything else he had said.
“Where is Michael now?”
Daniel looked at the notebook.
“I haven’t spoken to him in six years.”
“Why?”
“He called me.”
“When?”
“Six years ago.”
“What did he say?”
Daniel looked toward the locked drawer beneath the counter.
“I never listened to the whole message.”
Lena stared at him.
“You still have it.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Daniel gave a tired smile.
“I am apparently very good at keeping things I cannot face.”
For the first time, Lena almost smiled.
It disappeared quickly.
“Play it.”
Daniel did not move.
The drawer was only a few feet away.
That was the strange thing about difficult moments.
People imagined distance.
They imagined impossible barriers.
They rarely imagined that sometimes the hardest thing in the world was walking across a kitchen.
He opened the drawer.
Inside were old batteries, expired coupons, a broken flashlight, and a small digital recorder.
Lena looked at it.
“You kept a recorder?”
“I used to record meetings at work.”
“Why?”
“Because people remember conversations differently when money is involved.”
She looked at him.
“Seems like a useful habit.”
Daniel pressed the button.
The device clicked.
For a few seconds, there was only static.
Then a man’s voice filled the kitchen.
Daniel had not heard Michael’s voice in years.
But he recognized the fear immediately.
“Daniel, if you are hearing this, I am probably too late.”
Daniel stopped breathing.
The recording continued.
“I know you think I did something to Rebecca.”
Lena looked at him.
Daniel did not look away from the recorder.
“I know why you think that.”
Michael’s voice cracked slightly.
“But you need to understand something.”
A pause.
“I was not the person she was running from.”
The recorder hissed.
Then the message ended.
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