I pulled away from Thomas and ran upstairs.
The emergency lights flickered once, then died again.
“Mom!”
My mother's voice came from the hallway.
“They're here!”
I reached the twins' room.
The door was closed.
I grabbed the handle.
Locked.
“Emma! Oliver!”
Oliver cried from inside.
“Mommy!”
I hit the door with my shoulder.
Nothing.
Behind me, Ryan appeared.
He shoved past me.
“Move.”
He slammed his shoulder into the door.
The frame cracked.
One more strike opened it.
A man in dark clothing stood beside the window.
He froze when he saw us.
Ryan lunged.
The man jumped through the broken window.
I ran to the children.
Emma was crying.
Oliver had pulled the blanket over his head.
I gathered them both into my arms.
“I'm here.”
My mother entered behind me.
“Oh, thank God.”
Thomas was already calling the police.
Ryan stood near the shattered window.
“He was looking for something.”
I looked at him.
“You're sure?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
He stared at the room.
“I don't know.”
The police arrived within minutes.
They found footprints beneath the window and a torn piece of black fabric caught on the frame.
No one had been injured.
But the message was obvious.
Someone knew about the case.
Someone knew about the key.
Someone knew where we were.
The twins stayed with my mother while officers searched the property.
I went downstairs.
The black case remained on the table.
The key was gone.
I looked at Thomas.
“Where is it?”
He checked his pocket.
His face changed.
“It was here.”
Ryan looked toward the staircase.
“Someone took it.”
The police searched the house again.
Nothing.
Then my mother came downstairs.
She held something in her hand.
“This was under Oliver's pillow.”
It was the key.
Thomas stared.
“How did that get there?”
My mother shook her head.
“I don't know.”
I took it carefully.
The number 117 was still visible.
Thomas looked at Ryan.
“Who else knew about this key?”
Ryan hesitated.
“Vivian.”
“How?”
“She saw it in the case.”
“Did she touch it?”
“I don't know.”
I looked at the key.
There was something scratched onto the back.
Tiny letters.
ARCHIVE.
I showed Thomas.
He nodded.
“Your father's old archive.”
My mother suddenly sat down.
“What is it?”
I explained.
Her face went pale.
“No.”
“What?”
“You can't go there.”
“Why?”
“Because that's where your father met Samuel.”
Thomas looked at her sharply.
“You never told me that.”
“I was afraid.”
“Afraid of what?”
She looked at the key.
“Someone died there.”
The room went silent.
“Who?”
“Samuel's brother.”
Thomas frowned.
“Samuel had a brother?”
My mother nodded.
“Older brother. Daniel.”
“What happened?”
“He worked for your father too.”
She looked toward the window.
“One night, there was an accident.”
“What kind of accident?”
“Fire.”
I stared at her.
“Did Daniel die?”
“Yes.”
“Was Vivian there?”
My mother didn't answer.
Thomas did.
“She was.”
My mother closed her eyes.
I felt the pieces shifting.
“Why didn't anyone tell the police?”
“They did,” Thomas said.
“But?”
“The official report called it accidental.”
I looked at the key again.
“Maybe it wasn't.”
Thomas didn't respond.
Ryan stood silently beside the table.
I turned toward him.
“You knew about Daniel.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Vivian told me.”
“What did she say?”
“That Daniel was stealing from the company.”
“Was he?”
Ryan shook his head.
“I don't know.”
I stepped closer.
“You keep saying you don't know.”
“Because I don't.”
“But you know enough to be afraid.”
Ryan looked at me.
“Yes.”
“Then tell me everything.”
He took a breath.
“Vivian told me Samuel and Daniel were involved in fraud. She said your father covered it up.”
I stared.
“And you believed her?”
“I wanted to.”
“Why?”
“Because she offered me money.”
“How much?”
“Enough to disappear.”
My mother looked at him with disgust.
“You were willing to leave my daughter with nothing.”
Ryan lowered his eyes.
“Yes.”
I expected anger.
Instead, I felt something colder.
Indifference.
I had spent years believing Ryan had betrayed me because he stopped loving me.
Now I understood that love might never have been the reason he stayed.
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
No one spoke.
Then I heard a woman's voice.
“Bring the key.”
Vivian.
My heart tightened.
“Where?”
“The archive.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
I looked at Thomas.
Vivian continued.
“Come without the police.”
“No.”
A pause.
“You want to know what happened to Samuel.”
“Yes.”
“Then come alone.”
“I won't.”
“You will if you want your mother to live peacefully.”
My fingers tightened around the phone.
“What does that mean?”
“You've already seen what happens when people ignore me.”
The call ended.
My mother had heard enough.
“Sabrina, don't go.”
I looked at her.
“I won't go alone.”
Thomas immediately objected.
“You don't know what she has planned.”
“No.”
I held up the key.
“But I know she wants this.”
Ryan spoke quietly.
“She'll expect you.”
“That gives us an advantage.”
Thomas shook his head.
“You're thinking about this like a negotiation.”
“No.”
I looked at the security cameras.
“I'm thinking about it like evidence.”
The police remained nearby.
We arranged surveillance.
The archive was an old building on the edge of the city, no longer used by the company. It had been closed after the fire.
We would go there.
But we would not obey Vivian's instructions.
Before leaving, I went upstairs.
My mother was sitting between the twins.
Oliver was asleep against her shoulder.
Emma held her hand.
I crouched beside them.
“I'll be back.”
My mother shook her head.
“You don't have to prove anything.”
“I know.”
“Then don't go.”
I looked at her.
“This isn't about proving anything.”
I kissed Emma's forehead.
“It is about making sure they never have to wonder why we let someone hurt you.”
My mother began crying.
I hugged her.
Then I stood.
At the front door, Ryan stopped me.
“I should come.”
I looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because I know Vivian.”
“You helped her.”
“I know.”
He swallowed.
“But I know how she thinks.”
I studied him.
“You don't get forgiveness because you're useful.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you coming?”
He looked toward the children upstairs.
“Because I owe them the truth.”
I opened the door.
“Then earn it.”
We drove separately.
Thomas followed in another car.
Police waited farther behind.
The old archive stood beyond a rusted gate.
The building was dark.
One light burned inside.
I held the key in my palm.
Number 117.
I inserted it into the side entrance.
The lock turned.
The door opened.
Inside, the smell of smoke still lingered beneath layers of dust.
Thomas whispered, “This place hasn't been touched in years.”
Ryan stopped walking.
“What?”
He pointed toward the floor.
There were fresh footprints.
Someone had been here recently.
Then we heard a door close deeper inside.
I tightened my grip on the key.
We followed the sound.
At the end of the corridor was a room marked ARCHIVE 117.
The key fit.
The door opened.
Inside was a desk.
On the desk sat a recorder.
It activated the moment we entered.
My father's voice filled the room.
“If you are hearing this, then Vivian has finally found the archive.”
My breath caught.
The recording continued.
“And if Margaret is with you, then I failed to keep the truth buried long enough.”
My mother was not there.
But suddenly, I wished she were.
Then my father's voice said the one thing I had never expected to hear.
“Samuel did not disappear.”
Ryan stepped backward.
I turned toward him.
The recorder continued.
“He came to me for help.”
Click here to continue reading: PART 7: My Father’s Recording Revealed That Samuel Had Asked Him for Help, but the Reason He Needed Protection Was Far More Dangerous Than I Expected
I Came Home Before Anyone Expected Me, and the First Thing I Heard Was My Mother Being Ordered Back to the Kitchen
Part 6 of 12
