CHAPTER 7 – My Father's Last Words
The attic smelled of cedar, dust, and forgotten years.
As dawn began to break over Avery Hills, Sergeant Brooks accompanied Arthur and Maria up the narrow staircase. A crime scene technician photographed every corner while another officer carefully cataloged the contents of old storage boxes.
Maria pointed toward a weathered cedar trunk tucked beneath the slanted roof.
"It was inside there."
Arthur knelt and lifted the lid.
Family photo albums.
Christmas decorations.
Old business awards.
Beneath them lay a leather-bound journal wrapped in yellowed cloth.
His father's initials were embossed on the cover.
J.S.
Jonathan Sterling.
Arthur's hands trembled as he opened the first page.
The handwriting was unmistakable.
Strong.
Precise.
Confident.
But as he turned the pages, the writing became increasingly uneven.
Almost desperate.
September 14
Evelyn says discipline is love. I fear she no longer knows the difference.
Arthur frowned.
He continued reading.
October 3
She frightened one of Arthur's classmates today because the boy spilled juice on the carpet. She smiled while the child cried.
Arthur's heartbeat quickened.
He had no memory of it.
He had only been eight years old.
Another page.
November 22
I caught Evelyn locking Arthur in his room without dinner because he defended a stray dog she wanted removed from the property.
Arthur froze.
A memory flashed through his mind.
Darkness.
A locked bedroom.
Crying himself to sleep.
He had always believed he was being punished for disobedience.
His father had tried to unlock the door.
He remembered that now.
He remembered everything.
Brooks looked at Arthur carefully.
"You okay?"
Arthur didn't answer.
He kept reading.
The final entries were written only weeks before Jonathan Sterling died in what had been ruled a single-car accident.
January 9
If anything happens to me, someone must protect Arthur.
The next page.
Evelyn's need for control has become dangerous. I am beginning to fear my own wife.
Arthur's breathing became shallow.
He turned to the last completed page.
Tomorrow I will meet an attorney.
If I cannot save my marriage, I will at least save my son.
There were no more entries.
The remaining pages were blank.
Arthur slowly closed the journal.
His father had never met that attorney.
He had died the following morning.
For twenty-five years, Arthur had believed it was a tragic accident on a rain-soaked highway.
Now...
For the first time...
He wasn't sure.
Sergeant Brooks looked at the journal, then at Arthur.
"I think we need to reopen more than one investigation."
Before Arthur could respond, an officer hurried into the attic.
"Sergeant!"
Brooks turned.
"What is it?"
The young officer held up a small locked metal box.
"It was hidden beneath the floorboards."
Arthur stared at it.
There was no label.
No key.
Only one faded envelope taped to the top.
In his father's handwriting were six chilling words:
Open only if Evelyn is exposed.
Arthur's pulse thundered in his ears.
Whatever was inside that box...
May you like
His father had intended the world to see only after Evelyn Sterling's carefully built empire of lies began to collapse.
And that moment had finally arrived.
