Chapter 12 — The Missing Journal
Chapter 12 — The Missing Journal
The room fell completely silent.
I stared at Detective Bennett.
"That's... impossible."
My voice was barely above a whisper.
"I never moved it."
Daniel stepped closer to the bed.
"Emma."
"Are you absolutely sure it was in the cedar chest?"
I nodded.
"I put it there the week Grandpa died."
"I never touched it again."
Detective Bennett looked down at her notes.
"Our officers photographed the entire room before searching it."
"The cedar chest was unlocked."
"There were blankets inside."
"Some old photo albums."
"A quilt."
"But no journal."
My mother slowly sat down.
"I cleaned your room once."
"Months ago."
"I never opened the chest."
"I didn't even remember it was there."
Daniel frowned.
"Then someone else did."
No one argued.
Because it was the only explanation that made sense.
A soft knock came at the door.
The ICU physician stepped inside with a warm smile.
"I've got another update."
Daniel immediately stood.
"Good or bad?"
"Good."
He looked at my latest chart.
"Your oxygen has remained stable all morning."
I let out a slow breath.
"So..."
"So I think it's time to move you out of the ICU."
Caleb's face lit up.
"Really?"
The doctor nodded.
"If everything stays stable over the next hour."
"You'll be transferred to a regular medical room."
For the first time since collapsing in the kitchen...
Going home didn't feel impossible anymore.
It felt distant.
But real.
The nurse helped me sit upright.
It still took effort.
Every deep breath reminded me how weak my body had become.
"You've come a long way."
She adjusted my blanket.
"But don't rush yourself."
"I won't."
She smiled.
"Good."
Detective Bennett remained near the window.
She stared out at the parking lot for several moments before turning back.
"I requested another search of the house."
Daniel looked surprised.
"They already searched it."
"I know."
"But this time they're looking for one specific item."
"The journal."
She nodded.
"And anything that suggests someone entered Emma's room recently."
My mother looked uneasy.
"Our doors were always locked."
The detective asked quietly,
"Who had keys to the house?"
Mom answered without hesitation.
"Daniel."
"Myself."
"Ray."
Daniel added,
"And one spare key hidden outside."
The detective looked up.
"Where?"
Daniel hesitated.
"Inside a fake rock."
"Near the flower bed."
The detective sighed.
"I wish I hadn't heard that."
Daniel immediately understood.
"You think someone found it."
"I think we need to assume they could have."
Caleb looked toward me.
"What's in the journal?"
I smiled weakly.
"I don't know."
"You never read it?"
I shook my head.
"Grandpa told me..."
"...to open it when I felt ready."
"I kept waiting."
"I guess I waited too long."
My mother reached over and gently squeezed my hand.
"We'll find it."
"I promise."
I looked into her eyes.
For the first time in years...
I believed she meant it.
An hour later, two officers arrived from the house.
One of them carried a sealed evidence box.
Detective Bennett immediately walked over.
"What did you find?"
The officer opened the box.
Inside were several photographs.
A pair of gloves.
A small flashlight.
And a broken picture frame.
Daniel frowned.
"That's from Emma's room."
The officer nodded.
"It was lying behind the dresser."
"I don't remember it being broken," Mom said.
"It wasn't."
The officer slid another photograph across the table.
It showed faint muddy footprints on the hardwood floor.
"They weren't visible until we used an alternate light source."
Daniel leaned closer.
"So someone really was in there."
"It appears so."
The detective picked up another photo.
"This window."
She pointed to the bedroom window.
"The latch had fresh scratches."
"Someone may have opened it from the outside."
My mother covered her mouth.
"Oh my God..."
"They were in her room."
The second officer removed one final item from the evidence box.
A folded piece of notebook paper.
"It was tucked underneath the cedar chest."
Detective Bennett carefully unfolded it.
There were only six handwritten words.
You looked in the wrong place.
No signature.
No date.
Nothing else.
Daniel stared at the paper.
"They left us a message."
The detective nodded slowly.
"It certainly looks that way."
Caleb moved closer.
"What does it mean?"
No one answered.
Because no one knew.
The doctor returned with a transport team.
"Ready?"
I looked around the room.
The ICU had become strangely familiar.
The machines.
The nurses.
The constant beeping.
It had been terrifying.
But it had also kept me alive.
"I think so."
The nurses carefully transferred me into a wheelchair.
Standing was still difficult.
Walking even harder.
Daniel stayed beside me the entire time.
"You okay?"
I nodded.
"Just tired."
"That's allowed."
As we rolled through the hallway, hospital staff smiled politely.
Some recognized me.
Others didn't.
Life continued all around us.
Patients.
Visitors.
Doctors.
For everyone else...
It was just another Thursday.
For us...
Everything had changed.
The transport elevator doors opened.
As we entered, another wheelchair rolled in.
An elderly man.
A young woman pushing him.
She glanced toward me.
Then suddenly stopped.
Her eyes widened.
Almost as if she recognized me.
Before I could ask why...
The elevator doors closed.
She quickly looked away.
The ride lasted less than thirty seconds.
But when the doors opened again...
The young woman was gone.
Only the elderly man remained.
Daniel frowned.
"Where did she go?"
The orderly looked confused.
"What young woman?"
Daniel turned around.
"The one pushing—"
He stopped.
The hallway behind us was empty.
No wheelchair.
No visitor.
No one.
Detective Bennett's phone rang.
She answered immediately.
After only a few seconds, her expression changed.
"What?"
Daniel looked at her.
"What happened now?"
She lowered the phone.
"The forensic lab finished examining the note."
"The handwriting?"
"It doesn't match Ray."
"It doesn't match Mark."
"It doesn't match Rebecca."
She paused.
"Then whose is it?" Daniel asked.
The detective slowly looked at me.
"It matches a birthday card found in your grandfather's safe-deposit records."
My heart skipped.
"My grandfather?"
She shook her head.
"Not his handwriting."
She took a slow breath.
"It belongs to someone who wrote to him several times."
"Someone we've never heard of before."
Daniel folded his arms.
"Who?"
Detective Bennett read the name from the report.
"Evelyn Cross."
No one in the room recognized it.
But something deep inside me stirred.
The name sounded strangely familiar.
As if I had heard Grandpa say it once...
May you like
A long time ago.
End of Chapter 12
