Chapter 4 - THE HOUSE ON MILLER ROAD
Marcus wanted police protection around Emily.
Sarah demanded it.
Walter agreed.
Two officers were stationed outside room 214.
Then Marcus, Sarah, and Walter drove toward the address Rachel had forbidden Sarah to visit.
The abandoned farmhouse stood at the end of Miller Road.
Its windows were boarded.
The mailbox leaned sideways.
Sarah stared through the windshield.
“I’ve been here.”
Walter turned.
“When?”
“I don’t know.”
She touched her temple.
“I remember that porch.”
Marcus told them to remain outside.
Walter ignored him.
So did Sarah.
Inside, the house smelled of mildew.
Old wallpaper peeled from the walls.
A child’s height marks remained beside the kitchen door.
Sarah moved toward them.
There were names.
SARAH.
Then another.
REBECCA.
Walter’s knees nearly gave out.
Marcus photographed everything.
The last mark beside Rebecca’s name was dated 1997.
Two years after she disappeared.
“She was alive.”
Walter touched the wall.
“My daughter was alive here.”
Sarah covered her mouth.
Then she noticed a door beneath the staircase.
Locked.
Marcus forced it open.
A narrow staircase descended into darkness.
They entered the basement.
Walter found the first photograph.
Rebecca at seven.
Then eight.
Then nine.
Dozens of pictures.
Sarah picked up one.
A teenage Rebecca sat on a bed holding a newborn baby.
On the back were four words.
REBECCA AND BABY SARAH.
Sarah dropped the photograph.
“No.”
Walter caught it.
His granddaughter.
Sarah was his granddaughter.
The truth hit him with brutal force.
He reached toward her.
Sarah backed away.
“Don’t.”
Walter stopped.
Marcus searched the room.
“There’s more.”
A newspaper clipping was pinned behind a cabinet.
MISSING GIRL REBECCA BENNETT.
Across Walter’s photograph someone had written:
HE DOESN’T DESERVE HER.
Sarah whispered, “Who wrote that?”
A floorboard creaked upstairs.
Marcus drew his gun.
“Police!”
Footsteps ran.
Marcus charged upstairs.
Walter followed.
The back door slammed.
A man disappeared into the woods.
Marcus chased him.
Sarah remained in the basement.
Then she heard something.
A faint ringing.
A telephone.
Not upstairs.
Behind the wall.
She moved toward the sound.
“Walter?”
He returned.
“What?”
Sarah pressed her ear against the paneling.
“There.”
Walter tore away a loose board.
Behind it was a hidden room.
Inside sat an old desk.
A tape recorder.
Stacks of documents.
And a telephone connected to a modern line.
The phone rang again.
Walter answered.
“Hello?”
A woman breathed on the other end.
Then whispered, “Dad?”
Walter stopped breathing.
Sarah stared at him.
The voice came again.
“Dad, please.”
Walter’s hand shook violently.
“Rebecca?”
A sob came through the phone.
“I don’t have much time.”
Walter collapsed into the chair.
“Rebecca.”
“Don’t call the police.”
Walter looked at Marcus returning through the doorway.
“Where are you?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Rebecca, I’ve been looking for you for thirty-one years.”
“I know.”
Walter started crying.
“I never stopped.”
“I know.”
“Please come home.”
Rebecca whispered, “I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because he’ll kill Emily.”
Sarah grabbed the phone.
“Who?”
Silence.
Then Rebecca asked, “Sarah?”
Sarah couldn’t speak.
“Is that you?”
Tears rolled down Sarah’s face.
“Are you my mother?”
Rebecca sobbed.
“Yes.”
Sarah gripped the desk.
“Where have you been?”
“I’m sorry.”
“WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?”
“I tried to get back to you.”
“Then come now.”
“I can’t.”
A man’s voice appeared faintly in the background.
Rebecca gasped.
“Listen to me.”
“Mom?”
“Rachel wasn’t the person you should have feared.”
The line crackled.
“The man who took me is still alive.”
Then she said the words that turned Walter’s blood cold.
May you like
“And you already know him.”
The call disconnected.
