Chapter 3 - The Key Claire Left Behind Noah had turned thirteen four days earlier.
That birthday suddenly felt less like a celebration and more like a countdown.
We drove to Claire's old apartment.
I had kept paying the rent for thirteen months because I couldn't bring myself to empty it.
Vanessa had called that sentimental.
Now I wondered what else she had wanted me to stop looking at.
Noah walked straight to the bedroom.
He knelt beside the radiator and removed a narrow strip of molding.
Behind it was a tiny lock.
He inserted the brass key.
Click.
A hidden panel opened.
Inside was a cheap burner phone and an envelope.
His name was written across the front in Claire's handwriting.
Noah stared at it for several seconds before opening it.
The note contained only a few sentences.
If you're reading this, something went wrong.
Do not trust any message that appears to come from me after June 14.
Trust Uncle Daniel only if he is willing to admit when he was wrong.
I read that last line twice.
Noah looked at me.
“She knew.”
“What?”
“That you wouldn't believe her.”
I had no answer.
He turned on the burner phone.
There were no contacts.
No photographs.
Only one saved draft.
A list of dates.
Invoice numbers.
And three sets of initials.
V.C.
M.H.
E.P.
Vanessa Carter.
Marcus Hale.
Elliot Price.
Carter Meridian's chief financial officer.
At the bottom was an address.
STORAGE 218 — WESTBROOK SELF STORAGE.
Then the phone lit up.
INCOMING MESSAGE.
Unknown number.
I opened it.
A photograph appeared.
It was a picture of Noah and me standing inside Claire's bedroom.
Taken through the window.
The timestamp was less than ten seconds old.
Underneath were four words.
LEAVE THE STORAGE UNIT ALONE.
Noah whispered:
“They're watching us.”
For the first time, I understood that Claire's disappearance wasn't an old family tragedy.
May you like
It was still happening.
And whoever had taken her was afraid of what we were about to find.
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