Chapter 6 - THE SECRET BENEATH THE OLD APARTMENT|
"That building doesn't exist anymore."
I repeated the sentence as though saying it enough times might make it less cruel.
Maxwell stood across from me, studying the brass key in my hand.
"What was the address?"
"Two hundred eighteen East One Hundred and Fourth Street."
Daniel immediately opened his tablet.
"A redevelopment project?"
I nodded.
"They tore it down after we moved."
Maxwell looked up.
"Who bought the property?"
Daniel searched.
Then his expression changed.
"Bennett Urban Development."
The room went silent.
I stared at Maxwell.
"Your company?"
He took the tablet from Daniel.
"That subsidiary was managed by Victor."
I laughed bitterly.
"Of course it was."
"Katherine—"
"First my husband's employer, then his death, and now the building where he hid his evidence."
My voice rose.
"Every road leads back to your company."
Maxwell didn't defend himself.
He simply looked at the screen.
"Find out what stands there now."
Daniel typed rapidly.
"A private parking facility."
My heart sank.
"Then everything's gone."
"Not necessarily."
Maxwell turned toward me.
"Was there a basement?"
"Yes."
"Storage rooms?"
"Small ones."
"Did Thomas have access to one?"
I thought about our old apartment.
It had been cramped and drafty, with a kitchen barely large enough for two people.
But Thomas had loved it.
He often took Lily downstairs to count the steps between the laundry room and the storage area.
One.
Two.
Three.
I remembered hearing their laughter through the stairwell.
And suddenly, something clicked.
"Thirty-seven."
Maxwell frowned.
"What?"
"Lily learned to count the basement stairs."
I looked at the key.
"Thomas told her there were thirty-seven steps to the old laundry room."
Daniel leaned forward.
"Did the basement survive demolition?"
"How would I know?"
He began checking archived construction plans.
For several minutes, the only sound was the tapping of his fingers.
Then he stopped.
"The original foundation was retained."
My pulse accelerated.
"Why?"
"The developer converted the basement into a utility level."
Maxwell looked at me.
"Your husband may have hidden something where the demolition crew wouldn't look."
I closed my hand around the key.
"Then we go."
Maxwell shook his head.
"Not tonight."
I stared at him.
"Don't tell me to wait."
"Victor knows we're looking for Thomas's records."
"Which is why we need to get there first."
"And which is why he may be waiting."
I hated that he was right.
My hands were shaking, and exhaustion had begun to blur my thoughts.
Maxwell noticed.
"Sleep for a few hours."
"How can I?"
"I'll keep working."
I looked toward the staircase.
"Lily needs me."
"Then stay with her."
His voice softened.
"She's had a terrifying night."
I wanted to argue.
Instead, I went upstairs.
Lily was asleep beneath a thick quilt, one hand curled around the worn stuffed rabbit Thomas had given her.
I sat beside the bed and watched her breathe.
Six years earlier, I'd believed the worst thing in the world was losing my husband.
Now I understood that there was something worse.
The possibility of losing the only piece of him I had left.
I stayed awake until dawn.
At six thirty, Maxwell knocked softly.
I stepped into the hallway.
He held a mug of coffee.
"Rosa says you take it with milk and no sugar."
"Thank you."
He looked tired.
Dark shadows marked the skin beneath his eyes.
"Did you sleep?"
"No."
"Neither did I."
For a moment, we stood together in silence.
Then he handed me a folder.
"Daniel found something."
Inside were photographs of the parking facility, construction plans, and an old blueprint.
A red circle marked the original basement.
"That section survived."
My heart beat faster.
"The storage rooms?"
"Three of them."
"Can we get inside?"
"Yes."
I studied his face.
"You're going yourself."
He nodded.
"Then so am I."
"Katherine—"
"No."
He stopped.
"Thomas left that key for me."
Maxwell studied me.
Finally, he nodded.
"All right."
We left Lily with Rosa and Madame Girard under Daniel's protection.
Before I departed, Lily hugged me tightly.
"Promise you'll come back."
I held her face between my hands.
"I promise I'll do everything I can."
She frowned.
"That's not the same."
I pulled her into my arms.
"I love you, sweetheart."
"I love you more."
Maxwell stood quietly nearby.
When Lily turned toward him, she hesitated.
"Mr. Bennett?"
"Yes?"
"Bring my mom home."
He knelt.
"I will."
She studied him seriously.
"And don't let anyone hurt you either."
Something flickered across his expression.
"I'll do my best."
The drive to East Harlem took twenty-five minutes.
A thin layer of ice covered the sidewalks.
The parking facility stood where my old apartment building had once been.
I stared at the concrete entrance.
For a moment, I could almost see Thomas carrying groceries up the steps.
I remembered the sound of Lily laughing.
I remembered the neighbor who always played jazz too loudly.
All of it was gone.
Maxwell stood beside me.
"Are you ready?"
I nodded.
Inside, a maintenance supervisor named Mr. Alvarez met us.
He'd worked at the property since before the redevelopment.
When I told him my name, his eyebrows rose.
"Parker?"
"Yes."
"Thomas Parker's wife?"
My heart jumped.
"You knew him?"
"Good man."
Mr. Alvarez shook his head.
"Used to help me fix things around the building."
I struggled to speak.
"Do you remember the basement?"
"Of course."
He led us through a locked security door and down a narrow staircase.
I counted each step.
One.
Two.
Three.
At thirty-seven, we reached the old foundation.
I stopped.
The walls were different.
The lighting had changed.
But the smell of damp concrete was familiar.
And on the far wall, beneath fresh paint, I saw a tiny pencil mark.
A crooked star.
Thomas had drawn it for Lily.
I touched it.
My eyes filled with tears.
"He was here."
Maxwell waited behind me.
Mr. Alvarez led us to three metal storage doors.
"Most of this was sealed during construction."
I examined the brass key.
It was small and old-fashioned.
None of the modern locks matched.
Then I noticed something beneath a utility shelf.
A square brass plate protruded from the wall.
I crouched.
"Maxwell."
He came closer.
The plate had a keyhole.
I inserted Thomas's key.
It turned.
A shallow metal compartment slid open.
Inside was a weatherproof pouch.
I stared at it.
For six years, my husband's secret had been waiting less than five miles from our apartment.
I carefully removed the pouch.
Inside were several documents, a small encrypted storage device, and a photograph of Thomas standing beside Isabelle.
On the back, he had written a message.
For Katherine and Lily, when the truth is finally safe.
I pressed the photograph against my chest.
Maxwell gently touched my shoulder.
"We found it."
I looked up at him.
"Will this be enough?"
"I don't know yet."
Then his phone rang.
Daniel's name appeared.
Maxwell answered immediately.
"Talk."
His expression changed.
"What do you mean she's gone?"
I stood.
"Who?"
Maxwell said nothing.
"Maxwell, who is gone?"
He stared at me.
"Rosa went upstairs to check on Lily."
My blood turned to ice.
"The bedroom was empty."
I grabbed his arm.
"No."
"Daniel's searching the house."
"No!"
I began running toward the stairs.
Maxwell followed me.
Then his phone buzzed with a new message.
A photograph appeared.
Lily stood beside a man wearing a dark coat.
Her face was frightened.
Behind them was a familiar green apartment door.
Madame Girard's apartment.
A message followed.
May you like
YOU FOUND THE FILES.
NOW LET'S DISCUSS THE PRICE OF GETTING YOUR DAUGHTER BACK.
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