Chapter 4 - The Attic of Shadows
The old family house on Elm Street had been sold years ago to pay for legal fees, but I rented a small two-bedroom apartment on the outskirts of the city where I raised Ethan.
By 10:00 AM, I was kneeling on the dusty plywood floor of my apartment’s storage closet, pulling down heavy plastic bins labeled Dad’s Belongings.
Ethan sat on the floor near the doorway, holding his small wooden toy train, watching me with wide, watchful eyes.
"Maya?" Ethan asked quietly. "Is Uncle Victor going to come here?"
I stopped digging, turning to look at my little brother. "No, sweetie. Detective Delgado has two officers watching our building. Uncle Victor can't touch us."
"He was mean that night," Ethan whispered, looking down at his shoes. "He smelled like sour pennies."
Sour pennies. The metallic smell of fresh blood.
"You were so brave, Ethan," I said, reaching over to touch his head. "You saved Mom."
"I was scared," he admitted, a tear leaking from his eye. "I thought if I told anyone, Uncle Victor would put a knife under my bed too."
My stomach churned with pure rage, but I forced a warm smile. "He’s never going to hurt anyone again. I promise."
I turned back to the plastic bin, lifting out a heavy, dark-brown shearling flight jacket that had belonged to my father. The leather was stiff and cracked from years of storage.
I ran my fingers along the inside lining of the heavy coat, searching for any unusual bumps or stitches. Near the left interior pocket, my fingers brushed against a tiny, hard object sewn deep into the wool lining.
I sprinted to the kitchen, grabbed a small seam ripper, and carefully sliced through the vintage thread.
Out slipped a small, brass, flat tubular key stamped with a tiny serial number: 8B-RIVER.
My phone vibrated violently in my pocket. I pulled it out to see Detective Delgado’s name flashing on the screen.
"Maya," Delgado’s voice was tense, punctuated by the sound of heavy traffic in the background. "Where are you right now?"
"I’m at my apartment," I said, clutching the key tightly in my fist. "Delgado, I found the key! My father had a secret storage locker on River Road where he kept duplicate copies of Victor's fraudulent company logs!"
There was a sudden, sharp beat of absolute silence on the line.
"Delgado?" I asked. "Are you there?"
May you like
"Maya... get out of the apartment right now," Delgado said, his tone dropping into a frantic whisper. "Victor just posted a two-million-dollar cash bail using an offshore corporate bond. The judge released him twenty minutes ago pending the grand jury review."
Before I could answer, the loud, shattering sound of breaking glass echoed from my living room window.
