Daniel’s jaw tightened.
“Sophie, please go downstairs.”
Laura held her daughter’s hand.
“She stays with me.”
“Laura, don't do this in front of her.”
“Do what?”
Daniel walked closer.
“Just step away.”
Laura moved between him and the trunk.
“No.”
“Please.”
“Who is inside?”
“Nobody is inside the trunk.”
“That is not the answer I asked.”
Daniel looked toward it again.
Laura noticed.
He knew exactly where the sound came from.
Not uncertainty.
Not confusion.
Knowledge.
She lowered her voice.
“How long have you known?”
Daniel looked at her.
“Knew what?”
“That there is something wrong with that trunk.”
Silence.
Laura felt anger beginning to push aside fear.
“For seven years I have lived in this house.”
Daniel rubbed one hand over his face.
“I know.”
“You told me it was an old family trunk.”
“It is.”
“You told me the key was lost.”
“It was.”
Laura stared.
“Was?”
Daniel said nothing.
Laura looked at the lock.
Then him.
“You have a key.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
Sophie whispered:
“Dad?”
Daniel looked at his daughter.
His expression softened.
“Honey, please go downstairs.”
“Is somebody hurt?”
That question landed.
Daniel’s face changed.
Laura saw it.
She immediately turned toward the trunk.
“Someone is hurt.”
“No.”
“You just reacted.”
“Laura.”
She grabbed the lock.
Daniel moved forward.
“Don't!”
Laura spun.
“Then tell me!”
Daniel stopped.
Sophie began crying quietly.
Laura regretted raising her voice.
She crouched beside her daughter.
“Hey.”
Sophie wiped her eyes.
“Everything’s okay.”
It was a lie.
But a necessary one.
Laura looked toward Daniel.
“Take Sophie downstairs.”
Sophie grabbed her tighter.
“No.”
“Soph.”
“No, I want you.”
Laura kissed her forehead.
Daniel stood helplessly.
Finally Laura said:
“Living room. Turn on the television. I'll come down in five minutes.”
Sophie looked toward the trunk.
Another faint sound came.
Not knocking this time.
Something like scraping.
Sophie whispered:
“I don't want you here alone.”
Laura squeezed her hand.
“Dad will stay.”
That did not seem to reassure Sophie.
Interesting.
Laura noticed.
So did Daniel.
Sophie finally walked toward the stairs.
Before disappearing, she turned.
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“The voice said Daniel.”
Silence.
Daniel stopped breathing.
Laura stared at him.
“What?”
Sophie pointed toward the trunk.
“It said Daniel.”
Then she went downstairs.
Laura waited until she heard the television.
Then she turned toward her husband.
Daniel looked destroyed.
“Who is calling your name?”
He sat on the hallway bench.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Laura did not move.
Finally Daniel whispered:
“My brother.”
Laura stared.
“What brother?”
Daniel looked at the floor.
“His name is Noah.”
Laura almost laughed.
Not because anything was funny.
Because the statement seemed absurd.
“You don't have a brother.”
“Yes.”
“You told me you're an only child.”
“I know.”
“Your mother told me you were an only child.”
“I know.”
Laura took a step backward.
Seven years of marriage.
Eleven years together.
She knew Daniel’s childhood stories.
His school.
His parents.
His cousins.
His grandfather.
The summer he broke his ankle.
The dog he had at twelve.
There had never been a brother.
Not once.
“Where is he?”
Daniel looked toward the trunk.
Laura’s skin tightened.
“No.”
“He isn't inside the trunk.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because he's not.”
“Then where is he?”
Daniel stood.
“There’s a room.”
Laura stared.
“What room?”
“Behind the wall.”
She looked toward the hallway.
There was no room behind the wall.
The exterior of the house was on the other side.
Daniel continued:
“Partly beneath the roofline.”
“What are you talking about?”
He pointed toward the trunk.
“It isn't really a trunk.”
Laura turned.
Of all the explanations she had imagined, that had not been one.
Daniel approached slowly.
He knelt.
Then placed both hands against the sides of the trunk.
“Help me.”
Laura did not.
“What are you doing?”
“Moving it.”
“You said never to move it.”
“I know.”
“Daniel.”
He looked at her.
“Laura, if Noah is in there, we need to hurry.”
That ended the argument.
Laura grabbed one side.
The trunk was heavy.
Far heavier than expected.
Together they dragged it approximately eighteen inches from the wall.
Wood scraped against floorboards.
Behind it, Laura saw something impossible.
A rectangular seam in the wall.
About three feet high.
Painted to blend with the paneling.
A small iron ring sat near the bottom.
Laura stared.
“A door.”
Daniel nodded.
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“For seven years.”
“Yes.”
“How many times have you opened it?”
Daniel hesitated.
Laura felt sick.
“How many?”
“Not since before we married.”
She stared.
He reached into his sweater pocket.
Removed a small brass key.
Laura laughed bitterly.
“The lost key.”
Daniel said nothing.
He inserted it into the trunk lock.
Turned.
Click.
The lid opened.
Laura looked inside.
Empty.
Almost.
A faded wool blanket covered the bottom.
Daniel pulled it away.
Beneath was no wooden base.
Instead:
Iron handles.
A concealed mechanism.
He twisted one.
Something inside the wall released.
The hidden panel opened approximately two inches.
Cold air escaped.
And a voice whispered:
“Daniel?”
Laura stepped backward.
Daniel pulled the panel open.
Beyond it was darkness.
A narrow passage descended between the walls.
Daniel grabbed his phone.
Turned on the flashlight.
“Noah?”
A weak voice answered.
“Yeah.”
Daniel immediately entered.
Laura grabbed his arm.
“Wait.”
“I need to get him.”
“Who is he?”
“My brother.”
“You've established that.”
“Laura.”
“Is he dangerous?”
Daniel looked stunned.
“No.”
“How would I know?”
That hurt him.
Good.
Laura needed him to understand what eleven years of lying had done in ten minutes.
Daniel said:
“He's not dangerous.”
“Why is he hidden in our house?”
“I don't know.”
Laura stared.
“You don't know?”
“No.”
“Then why did you know exactly where the sound came from?”
Daniel looked down the passage.
“Because we used to communicate that way.”
Three knocks.
Laura understood.
A childhood signal.
Daniel entered.
Laura followed.
He turned.
“Stay with Sophie.”
“No.”
“Laura.”
“You have lied to me for eleven years. You do not get to disappear inside my wall with a secret brother and ask me to wait downstairs.”
Daniel could not argue with that.
The passage was narrow.
Dust covered the floor.
Old timber framing exposed behind plaster.