She Was Hired to Finish the Book—But the Last Chapter Was a Confession
CHAPTER 3
Mara slammed her shoulder against the door.
“Hello?”
No answer.
She tried the handle again.
Nothing.
Her phone had no signal.
She stepped back.
The room suddenly felt smaller.
Then something struck the other side of the door.
Three knocks.
Mara froze.
“Who’s there?”
A whisper came through the wood.
“Don’t trust Ethan.”
Then footsteps disappeared down the hallway.
A minute later, the door opened.
Margaret stood outside.
She looked frightened.
“Come with me.”
Mara followed her downstairs.
“What happened?”
Margaret shook her head.
“I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“You didn’t.”
“Someone has been watching you.”
Mara stopped.
“Who?”
Margaret looked toward the windows.
“Everyone in this house has secrets.”
That evening, Ethan apologized.
“Old locks,” he said.
“Convenient.”
He smiled.
“You’ve been here two days.”
“And already someone locked me inside a room.”
“You’ve been reading things you shouldn’t.”
Mara stared at him.
“Is that a threat?”
“No.”
He stepped closer.
“It’s advice.”
Later, Mara called Daniel.
He was an investigative journalist who had spent years investigating corporate crimes.
She told him everything.
“Look up June Vale,” she said.
There was silence.
Then Daniel answered:
“That’s strange.”
“What?”
“June Vale died eight years ago.”
“I know.”
“No, Mara. I mean the official record is almost nonexistent.”
“What does that mean?”
“Her death was listed as a drowning.”
Mara looked toward the lake.
“How old was she?”
“Six.”
Mara closed her eyes.
“Anything else?”
“Her body was never recovered.”
Mara opened her eyes.
“What?”
Daniel continued.
“Officially, the family held a private memorial. But there was no body.”
Mara stared at the dark lake outside.
“Daniel.”
“Yeah?”
“Find everything you can about June.”
He paused.
“Why?”
Mara looked at the manuscript.
“Because I think she may not be dead.”
At that exact moment, someone knocked on her bedroom door.
Mara opened it.
Noah stood there.
He was holding an old photograph.
“This is my sister.”
Mara took it.
The girl looked exactly like the photograph downstairs.
But this photograph was different.
June was older.
Maybe ten.
Impossible.
Noah whispered:
“My mother told me never to show this to Dad.”
