Chapter 3 - WHAT THE FIRE TOOK
Victoria ended the call without answering. Daniel knew about Emma, which meant someone at the hotel had told him—or he had been watching all along.
The police arrived minutes later. Victoria showed them the footage and the threatening message. An officer took Emma’s statement while another contacted Daniel’s office. His assistant said he had left early that morning.
“Where can I reach him?” the officer asked.
The assistant didn’t know.
Victoria knew what Caroline would have wanted: get Emma somewhere Daniel couldn’t reach her.
But first, she had to understand the fire.
Eighteen years earlier, Caroline had worked as a bookkeeper at Hale Development, their father’s real estate firm. One November night, she called Victoria in tears.
“I found something,” Caroline had said. “Dad’s going to blame me.”
Victoria was in the middle of a brutal argument with her husband. She told Caroline they would talk in the morning.
There was no morning.
Police said Caroline had driven off an icy road into the Hudson. Her car was recovered. Her purse and coat were inside. No body was found. Their father, Richard Hale, insisted they hold a memorial.
Victoria had spent eighteen years regretting that phone call.
Now Emma sat across from her, rubbing dirt from the edge of the photograph.
“Why did Mom say you wouldn’t believe her?” Emma asked.
“I didn’t listen when she needed me to.”
“Are you listening now?”
“Yes.”
Emma reached into her hoodie pocket and brought out a brass key with a paper tag. A number had been written on it: 314.
“Mom gave me this before we went into the hotel. She said not to show anyone unless she disappeared.”
“Do you know what it opens?”
Emma shook her head. “She said it holds what happened in the fire.”
Victoria looked more closely. The tag carried the name of a storage company in Queens.
Her phone rang. The caller ID showed her father’s name.
Richard Hale had been dead for six years.
May you like
Victoria answered. For a moment, there was only breathing. Then a woman whispered, “Your father kept copies.”
The line went dead.
