Chapter 4: The Locked Room
I stood at that door for a moment.
Then I walked back to the bedroom, went to Mark's nightstand, and opened the top drawer.
The spare key was gone.
I had known where that key was for eleven years.
It had sat under a travel adapter and two dead batteries since the week we moved in.
Gone.
I went back to the hallway.
Downstairs I could hear Megan's voice, bright and easy, asking someone if they wanted more pie.
The sound of forks.
Normal Thanksgiving sounds, like nothing had happened, like a child hadn't been struck at the table an hour ago.
I tried the door again.
Locked solid.
I went downstairs.
Mark was standing near the kitchen doorway with a glass of wine, talking to his brother Dennis.
He saw me come down and something crossed his face — just a flicker — before he smiled.
"Hey.
Lily okay?"
"She's asleep." I stopped in front of him.
"I need to talk to you."
"Chloe, we have guests —"
"Now, Mark."
Dennis looked between us and quietly moved toward the living room.
I walked to the back hallway.
Mark followed.
I turned around before we reached the den.
"The office is locked."
His expression didn't change.
"I've been keeping it locked.
Work stuff."
"You've never locked it before."
"I have sensitive files right now.
It's not a big deal."
"What papers is Megan asking you to sign?"
The color left his face so fast I actually watched it happen.
"What?"
"I heard a recording, Mark.
Three weeks ago.
Megan's voice.
Your voice.
She said you've been putting it off for two years.
She said I don't need to know until it's done." I kept my voice even.
"What papers?"
He set his wine glass down on the side table.
Carefully.
Like the glass needed his full attention.
"Where did you hear that?"
"It doesn't matter."
"It absolutely matters.
Who gave you —"
"What.
Papers."
He looked past me down the hallway.
Then back at me.
Then at the floor.
"It's complicated, Chloe."
"Then uncomplicate it."
"This isn't the time or the place."
"You told me not to make a scene while your sister's handprint was still on our daughter's face.
You don't get to decide the time and place anymore."
His jaw tightened.
"Keep your voice down."
"Tell me what she's been planning."
He picked the glass back up.
His hand wasn't steady.
"Megan is trying to protect the family," he said.
"She's always just trying to protect the family."
"From what?
From me?"
He said nothing.
"From me, Mark?"
"It's more complicated than you understand."
Something settled in my chest.
Cold and very still.
"Then I'll find someone who can explain it simply." I took a step back.
"I want the office unlocked tonight.
If it's not unlocked by the time your guests leave, I'm calling a locksmith in the morning."
I walked back toward the kitchen.
Megan was standing at the counter slicing pie, her back to me.
She laughed at something Dennis's wife said.
Easy.
Relaxed.
She didn't know about the recording.
She didn't know Zoe had copied it.
She didn't know I had it now.
I accepted a cup of coffee from Dennis's wife and stood near the window and thought about the folder the man had carried.
Not a blueprint.
A folder.
Two visits last month.
I thought about the word Megan had used.
*Papers.*
I took out my phone under the counter and typed one text to my sister, Paula.
May you like
Three words.
*Call me tonight.*
