PART 7
I dropped the letter.
The director bent down and picked it up.
She read it.
Her face turned white.
“What?”
I grabbed the paper from her.
“Who?”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“Who?”
She looked at me.
“It can’t be.”
I pointed to the letter.
“Tell me.”
She whispered:
“My father didn’t act alone.”
I stared at her.
“Who helped him?”
She looked toward the old man.
Then toward me.
“Daniel’s own father.”
I felt the room tilt.
“My father-in-law?”
The director nodded.
“No…”
I stepped backward.
“My father-in-law hated the camp.”
“He had a financial interest in it,” the director said.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It will.”
She pointed to the wooden box.
“Open it.”
I lifted the lid.
Inside were dozens of documents.
Bank statements.
Photographs.
Letters.
Legal papers.
And one small cassette tape.
I stared at it.
“What is this?”
The elderly man stepped closer.
“Your husband recorded something.”
I found an old cassette player beneath the documents.
My hands shook as I inserted the tape.
There was static.
Then Daniel’s voice.
Older.
Tired.
But unmistakable.
“If you’re hearing this, then I’m probably gone.”
I closed my eyes.
Mia began crying.
Daniel continued.
“Rebecca, I’m sorry.”
The recording paused.
Then he said something that made my heart stop.
“The story about my death isn’t true.”
I opened my eyes.
The director stared at the tape player.
Daniel continued.
“I wasn’t killed because of the camp.”
A long silence.
“I was killed because I was about to expose who really owned the money.”
I looked at the documents.
“Who?”
Daniel’s voice answered the question.
“My father.”
I couldn’t move.
The man I had known as my kind, quiet father-in-law had been involved.
But Daniel wasn’t finished.
“He wasn’t the only one.”
The tape crackled.
“There’s someone else.”
The recording suddenly became distorted.
Then Daniel whispered:
“She is still alive.”
I looked at the director.
“Who is she?”
The tape continued.
“Her name is…”
Static swallowed the next words.
I hit the player.
Nothing.
The tape had stopped.
“No!”
I pressed the button repeatedly.
Nothing.
“Play!”
The elderly man picked up the cassette.
“It may have been damaged.”
I stared at him.
“No.”
I grabbed the tape.
“He was about to tell me.”
Mia suddenly pointed toward the wooden box.
“Mom.”
“What?”
“There’s another tape.”
I looked down.
She was right.
Under the first cassette was a second one.
I picked it up.
A handwritten note was attached.
If the first recording fails, listen to this one.
My heart pounded.
I inserted it.
Static.
Then Daniel’s voice.
But this time, he sounded frightened.
“Rebecca, if you are hearing this, someone has already found the first recording.”
I looked at the door.
Nobody had moved.
Daniel continued.
“There’s something you need to know about Mia.”
My blood ran cold.
“Mia?”
The recording continued.
“Before she was born, I discovered something about her.”
I looked at my daughter.
She stared at me.
“What about me?” she whispered.
Daniel’s voice came through the speaker.
“Your daughter was the reason they were watching us.”
I couldn’t breathe.
“Why?”
The recording continued.
“Because Mia’s birth mother…”
I froze.
Mia was my daughter.
I had given birth to her.
Daniel knew that.
So why had he said birth mother?
The tape crackled.
Then Daniel spoke the words that shattered everything I believed about my own family.
“Rebecca, I’m sorry, but there is something about Mia’s birth that I never told you.”
The room went silent.
Mia looked at me.
“Mom?”
I couldn’t answer.
Daniel continued.
“The woman who gave birth to Mia…”
The tape suddenly cut out.
The lights went off.
Complete darkness swallowed the room.
Mia screamed.
Then we heard the cabin door slam shut above us.
The elderly man shouted:
“Someone’s here!”
The director grabbed my arm.
“Rebecca, we have to leave.”
But before we could move, footsteps echoed from the hallway.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Coming toward us.
One step.
Then another.
Then another.
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