Chapter 6: The Back Door
The doorknob turned slowly.
No one moved.
Every instinct told me to run, but my feet felt rooted to the floor.
Agent Rebecca Hayes raised one hand, signaling us to stay quiet. With the other, she drew her service weapon.
Two more FBI agents emerged from the hallway, having quietly entered through the front door moments earlier. They positioned themselves on either side of the kitchen entrance.
The doorknob stopped turning.
Then came another knock.
Three slow taps.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
"Olivia," Michael Rourke called through the door, his voice calm and almost pleasant. "You should know better than to invite strangers into your home."
Hayes frowned.
"He knows we're here."
She pressed a finger to her earpiece.
"Perimeter status."
A burst of static answered.
Then silence.
No response.
Hayes tried again.
"Unit Three, respond."
Nothing.
She looked at the agents.
"Our communications are being jammed."
One of the agents immediately pulled out his phone.
"No signal."
Another checked his.
"Mine's dead too."
The realization hit all of us at once.
Michael hadn't come alone.
Someone outside was blocking every form of communication.
Lily gripped my hand so tightly it hurt.
"Mom..."
"I've got you."
"No matter what happens..."
I squeezed her hand.
"I'll never let him take you."
Another voice echoed from outside.
"Rebecca."
Hayes stiffened.
"You remember me, don't you?"
Her expression changed instantly.
Not fear.
Recognition.
"You know him?" I whispered.
She didn't answer immediately.
Instead, she slowly lowered her gun.
"I trained with Michael at the academy."
The room fell silent.
"He was my partner."
I stared at her.
"You never told me that."
"I wasn't allowed."
"Why?"
"Because everything involving Michael Rourke was classified after he disappeared."
Outside, Michael laughed softly.
"You always followed the rules, Rebecca."
He sounded amused.
"I always wondered how long that would last."
Hayes stepped closer to the back door.
"What do you want?"
"You know what I want."
"No."
"I want the file."
Her eyes widened.
Operation Mirror.
The file sitting on the coffee table.
Michael wasn't here for Lily.
He wasn't even here for me.
He wanted the investigation.
Hayes quietly slid the thick folder beneath the sofa with her foot.
"You'll never get it."
Michael sighed.
"I was hoping you'd say something else."
A loud crash shattered the silence.
Glass exploded in the living room.
Everyone ducked instinctively.
But no one fired a shot.
It wasn't a bullet.
It was a brick.
Wrapped around it was another envelope.
One of the agents carefully picked it up.
Hayes opened it.
Inside was a single photograph.
She stared at it without speaking.
"What is it?" I asked.
Slowly, she handed it to me.
It was a recent picture of Noah.
My six-year-old nephew.
He was walking out of school.
Completely unaware someone had been following him.
Across the bottom of the photograph, someone had written five words.
I always keep my promises.
Lily began crying again.
"This is my fault."
"No."
"It is."
She looked at me through tears.
"If I hadn't listened to him..."
"You were a child."
"I helped him."
"You survived him."
Hayes gently took the photograph back.
"He wants us distracted."
One of the agents nodded.
"So what's the play?"
Hayes thought for only a second.
"He wouldn't risk coming here unless he already had another objective."
"What objective?"
She looked directly at me.
"Olivia..."
"Yes?"
"Did Daniel ever keep a storage unit?"
The question caught me completely off guard.
"I..."
Then I remembered.
"There was one."
"Where?"
"Outside Worcester."
"Did you ever open it after he died?"
I slowly shook my head.
"No."
"Why not?"
"The police said it only contained old construction tools."
Hayes closed her eyes.
"They lied."
"What?"
"We searched the records this morning."
She reached into her briefcase again and unfolded a property map.
"The storage unit has been rented continuously for seven years."
My heart pounded.
"That's impossible."
"It's still being paid for."
"By who?"
Hayes looked at me.
"Someone using Daniel Carter's Social Security number."
The room became eerily quiet.
My ex-husband had supposedly died eighteen months ago.
Yet someone had been paying rent in his name ever since.
Lily whispered the question neither of us wanted to ask.
"What if..."
She swallowed.
"...what if Dad really isn't dead?"
Before anyone could answer, every light in the house suddenly went out.
The air conditioner stopped.
The refrigerator fell silent.
The entire house was plunged into darkness.
Power outage.
"No..." one of the agents muttered.
Hayes immediately switched on a tactical flashlight.
Its narrow beam swept across the kitchen.
Then the hallway.
Then the living room.
Nothing.
The house was silent.
Too silent.
A loud metallic click echoed upstairs.
Every head turned toward the ceiling.
Someone...
Was walking across the second floor.
But everyone in the house was standing downstairs.
Another slow footstep creaked above us.
Then another.
Hayes whispered one word.
"Impossible."
Lily's face turned ghost white.
She looked toward the staircase.
Her voice was barely audible.
"He's already inside."
At that exact moment...
A child's laughter drifted down from Lily's bedroom.
But it wasn't Lily laughing.
May you like
It was the voice of a little boy.
And there hadn't been a little boy in the house when the lights went out.
