Daniel led us away from the basement through a narrow passage concealed behind a shelving unit. The opening was so well disguised that I would have walked past it without noticing. He pressed his palm against a section of concrete, and part of the wall released with a dull mechanical click.
My mother stared at him.
“How long has that been there?”
“Longer than I've been working for your father.”
“And you knew about it?”
“Yes.”
Valeria stepped into the passage first.
“Did Jonah use this?”
Daniel nodded.
“He was a child, but he knew the property better than most adults. Evelyn taught him where the service tunnels were.”
The corridor smelled of damp earth and old wood. Water dripped somewhere beyond the walls. Our footsteps sounded unnaturally loud.
Margaret followed with the memory card tucked inside her coat.
“Where does it lead?”
“To the road behind the old orchard.”
“And the other end?”
Daniel looked at Valeria.
“Another building.”
“What building?”
“The one where Jonah was transferred.”
My mother stopped walking.
“You said you didn't know where he was.”
“I said I didn't know where he is now.”
Valeria turned on him.
“You knew where he was taken.”
“I knew where they sent him.”
“Then why didn't you tell us?”
Daniel's face tightened.
“Because people who tried to help him disappeared.”
The passage narrowed.
I had to turn sideways to get around a broken support beam. Behind it, I noticed a child's drawing pinned to the wall.
It showed a house.
Three people stood outside.
A woman.
A man.
A boy.
Above them, written in uneven handwriting, was one word.
HOME.
I picked it up.
“Jonah drew this.”
Daniel nodded.
“He kept drawing the same picture.”
“Who were they?”
Daniel looked at it.
“Evelyn. Thomas. Jonah.”
My father's name caught me off guard.
“You're saying Dad was part of their family?”
“No.”
Daniel shook his head.
“Thomas wanted to become part of their escape.”
We continued until the tunnel opened into a small underground room.
There were shelves along one wall.
Most were empty.
A wooden desk stood in the corner.
On it lay an old cassette recorder.
Beside it was a handwritten label.
For the boy.
Valeria stared at it.
“Jonah.”
Margaret picked up the recorder.
“It still has a tape.”
We found batteries in a drawer.
The machine clicked.
Static filled the room.
Then a woman's voice emerged.
Evelyn.
“If you're hearing this, then I didn't make it out.”
My mother began crying.
Evelyn continued.
“Jonah, if they tell you I abandoned you, don't believe them.”
The recording crackled.
“I left because I wanted you to live.”
A man's voice interrupted.
Elias.
“You should have destroyed this.”
Evelyn answered calmly.
“You should have stopped hurting people.”
There was a long silence.
Then a child began crying.
The recording ended.
Nobody spoke.
Valeria wiped her face.
“She knew.”
“She knew what Elias was doing,” I said.
Margaret rewound the tape.
A second section played.
This time Evelyn spoke alone.
“Thomas promised me he would protect Jonah.”
My mother looked at me.
“He tried,” she whispered.
The recording continued.
“If Thomas fails, Jonah must never be allowed to return to the family.”
A pause.
“They will use him to control whoever remains.”
Then Evelyn gave an address.
Margaret wrote it down.
Daniel recognized it immediately.
“That's the transfer facility.”
Valeria stood.
“Then we're going.”
Daniel shook his head.
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
“Because Elias knows about the tunnel.”
“Then why did you bring us here?”
“Because he doesn't know we found the recording.”
A vehicle passed somewhere above us.
We waited until the sound faded.
Margaret looked at the time.
“We need authorities.”
“Which authorities?” Daniel asked.
“The federal investigators.”
He nodded.
“Then call them.”
Margaret stepped away to make the call.
I sat beside my mother.
She looked exhausted.
“Did Dad really try to protect Jonah?”
“I don't know.”
“But you believe it.”
“I believe he tried to protect some people after helping create the circumstances that endangered them.”
I understood what she meant.
My father wasn't innocent.
But perhaps the truth was more complicated than the villain I had wanted him to be.
Valeria sat opposite us.
“I don't know whether I can forgive him.”
“You don't have to,” my mother said.
Valeria looked at her.
“You forgave him.”
“No.”
My mother shook her head.
“I stayed with him because I was afraid.”
The distinction mattered.
Margaret returned.
“They're sending investigators.”
“How long?”
“Too long.”
Daniel looked toward the tunnel.
“We can't wait.”
Valeria stood.
“Then we don't.”
We reached the orchard shortly before midnight.
A second vehicle waited near the trees.
Inside were two federal investigators Margaret trusted.
They listened to the recording.
They photographed the documents.
Then one of them asked Valeria a question.
“Are you certain you want to continue?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Valeria looked at my mother.
“Because I spent seven years waiting for someone to come.”
She looked toward the road.
“Now I'm the one who has to go.”
We followed Daniel's directions to the transfer facility.
It was an old rehabilitation center surrounded by high fencing.
No lights were visible.
The investigators approached from two sides.
Daniel showed them a service entrance.
Inside, the air smelled of bleach.
Rows of empty rooms stretched along a hallway.
Valeria stopped at one doorway.
“This was Jonah's.”
The room was empty except for a mattress.
On the wall, someone had scratched numbers into the paint.
Twenty-six.
Twenty-five.
Twenty-four.
They counted backward.
Margaret found a file cabinet.
Most folders had been removed.
One remained.
Jonah Ellis.
The file contained a recent photograph.
He was older now.
A man in his thirties.
And beneath the photograph was a current address.
Valeria stared at it.
“He's alive.”
My mother covered her mouth.
Daniel looked at the investigators.
“Then Elias hasn't told us the worst part.”
A phone rang in the hallway.
Everyone froze.
The ringing came from a small office.
Inside, a phone sat on a desk.
The investigator answered.
No one spoke.
Then Elias's voice came through.
“You found Jonah's file.”
The investigator said nothing.
Elias laughed.
“Good.”
The line went dead.
A second later, every light in the building went out.
Click here to continue reading: PART 10: The Man We Had Been Searching For Was Alive, but His First Words Made It Clear He Had Been Waiting for Us to Find Him
The Face on the Television Was Supposed to Belong to a Dead Woman, Until She Spoke My Name and Changed Everything
Part 9 of 26
