Chapter 2: The Voice Inside Unit 108
My knees nearly gave way.
Beneath the first sentence, my father had written an address and three words: *TRUST THE CARETAKER.*
“What did Reagan lie about?” I demanded.
The old man glanced toward the cemetery gate.
“Your father came here six months after Reagan claimed he d!ed.”
My breath stopped.
“You saw him alive?”
“I spoke to him.
He was frightened—and he said you were sent to prison because someone forged your name.”
Before I could answer, my phone rang.
Reagan’s name flashed across the screen.
“Don’t answer,” the caretaker warned.
I put it on speaker.
“Finland,” Reagan said coldly.
“The cemetery won’t give you what you’re looking for.
Bring me the key.”
“How do you know about the key?”
Silence.
Then her voice changed.
“Because Camden stole it from me.”
The call ended.
I drove straight to Storage Unit 108.
The bronze key opened a rusted door, revealing one box beneath a hanging light.
Inside lay bank records, my prison case file, and a photograph of my father holding that day’s newspaper—dated seven months after Reagan said he d!ed.
Under the photograph was a recorder.
I pressed PLAY.
My father’s shaking voice filled the unit.
“Finland, Reagan didn’t frame you alone.
The person who signed your confession was—”
A shadow crossed the doorway, and the recording suddenly stopped.
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Who followed Finland—and whose name was on that confession?
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