Chapter 3 - The Photograph
Frank entered first.
Arthur remained near the doorway, staring at the phone.
“Who sent that message?” Maya asked.
“We don’t know,” Frank said.
“Then why are you here?”
Frank looked at Arthur.
Arthur slowly removed his wet coat.
“Because the phone belonged to my son.”
Maya glanced at the screen.
“The man who recorded the message?”
Arthur nodded.
“My son, Daniel, died two days ago.”
Maya’s breath caught.
“Then how did he call me this morning?”
“That is what we are trying to find out.”
Frank placed a photograph on the table.
Maya picked it up.
It showed her mother standing beside Daniel.
But the photograph was dated twenty-six years ago.
Maya stared at the young woman.
“That’s my mother.”
Arthur nodded.
“She worked for me.”
“Doing what?”
Arthur hesitated.
“Protecting my family.”
Maya laughed bitterly.
“My mother abandoned me when I was six.”
“No,” Arthur said. “She was forced to leave you.”
“By whom?”
Arthur looked toward the window.
“By the man who owns the restaurant where you work.”
Maya’s stomach dropped.
“Frank?”
Frank shook his head.
“No.”
Arthur looked at him.
“Not Frank.”
May you like
Then the lights in Maya’s apartment went out.
A second later, someone began turning the doorknob from the outside.
