I went into the kitchen to find her coat.
When I lifted it from the chair, something heavy shifted inside the lining.
I checked the pockets.
Empty.
The weight came from beneath the fabric.
A section of the inner seam had been cut and stitched by hand.
“Mom?”
She appeared in the doorway.
“Did you put something inside your coat?”
Her eyes widened.
“I forgot.”
I found a small pair of scissors and carefully opened the seam.
A flash drive fell into my palm.
Taped beside it was a folded sheet of paper.
Mother stared at the objects as though seeing a ghost.
“What is this?” I asked.
She looked toward the officers in the living room.
“Your father gave it to me before he died.”
My father had been gone for four years.
“Why did you hide it?”
“He told me never to let Julian find it.”
I unfolded the paper.
It contained a series of account numbers, dates, and the name of a private investigator.
At the bottom, my father had written one sentence.
If Julian ever comes after the house, Elena must learn what happened to the first family.
I read it twice.
