Chapter 5: The Secret In The Basement
The police arrived twenty minutes later.
But the car was gone.
No license plate.
No driver.
No evidence.
Just like Eric.
Like he had never existed.
The officer taking my statement looked at me carefully.
“Mrs. Holloway, are you sure this was your former husband?””
I almost laughed.
“I know his voice.””
He wrote something down.
“And the video?””
I handed him the flash drive.
His expression changed after he watched it.
Finally, someone believed me.
But believing me didn’t make me feel safer.
It made everything worse.
Because now I knew.
Eric wasn’t a ghost.
He was a person.
And he was somewhere nearby.
That night, Maya slept in my room.
Like she did when she was little.
Neither of us mentioned it.
Neither of us had to.
Around midnight, I woke up.
A sound downstairs.
A floorboard.
I reached for my phone.
Maya woke instantly.
“Mom?””
“Stay here.””
“No.””
“Maya—”
“I’m not losing you too.””
That sentence stopped me.
So we walked downstairs together.
Slowly.
The house was dark.
The kitchen was empty.
Then I noticed something.
The basement door.
It was open.
I was certain I had closed it.
I grabbed a flashlight.
“Maya, stay behind me.””
We stepped down.
One step.
Two.
Three.
The basement smelled like dust and old wood.
Then I saw it.
A box sitting in the middle of the floor.
Not ours.
New.
My hands shook as I opened it.
Inside were photographs.
Dozens of them.
Pictures of me.
Maya.
Our house.
Our daily lives.
Taken from outside.
Someone had been watching us.
For a long time.
Maya gasped.
Then she picked up an envelope.
“Mom.””
I looked at her.
Her face had gone white.
“What?””
She handed it to me.
My name was written across the front.
Not printed.
Handwritten.
By someone I knew.
Eric.
I opened it.
Inside was one page.
Only one sentence.
My heart stopped.
*“You thought Maya found my secret. She actually found yours.””*
I looked at my daughter.
“What does that mean?””
She shook her head.
“I don’t know.””
Then my phone buzzed.
A text message.
From an unknown number.
I opened it.
And saw a photograph.
A photograph taken inside our house.
Taken minutes earlier.
Of Maya and me standing in the basement.
May you like
Below it was a message.
*“Ask your daughter what happened the night before I disappeared.””*
