Chapter 6: The Secret Beneath the Chapel

The three knocks came again.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

I stared at the floor beneath the altar, unable to breathe.

Dad rushed toward the wooden platform and shoved a heavy cabinet in front of it.

"You didn't hear anything," he said.

I laughed bitterly.

"After everything you've done to me, you still expect me to believe you?"

Grandpa grabbed Dad's arm.

"It's too late. He knows now."

Dad shook him off.

"Then we'll make sure he never leaves this chapel."

Those words finally broke something inside me.

For ten years, I had believed I was the problem.

I had believed I was cursed, defective, unwanted, and somehow responsible for every woman who walked away from me.

But now I understood.

Someone had been controlling the story all along.

I lunged toward the cabinet.

Dad tried to stop me, but I grabbed the edge and pulled with everything I had.

The cabinet toppled over with a deafening crash.

Beneath it was a narrow wooden trapdoor.

Dad's face went white.

"Alex, don't."

I lifted the latch.

A wave of cold, damp air rushed over me.

There were stone steps leading downward.

I started down before anyone could stop me.

Dad followed, shouting my name.

At the bottom was a small underground room.

Old shelves covered the walls.

On them were boxes filled with documents, photographs, letters, and recording devices.

There were also dozens of personal belongings.

Necklaces.

Wedding rings.

Driver's licenses.

Phones.

Every item had a woman's name attached to it.

My stomach twisted.

"These belonged to the women who disappeared."

Grandpa appeared behind me.

"They didn't disappear."

I turned around.

"Then where are they?"

He looked toward the floor.

"They were forced to leave."

"By whom?"

He didn't answer.

I grabbed the nearest box and opened it.

Inside was a stack of letters.

The first one was dated twelve years earlier.

It was written by a woman named Clara.

"Alex is innocent. I know he is. Your family showed me those recordings, but the details didn't match what I saw myself."

My hands trembled as I read the next letter.

"They told me Alex had attacked his mother. They told me he had inherited her cruelty. But I saw the truth in his eyes. He didn't know anything."

Another letter followed.

"I refused to break up with him. They locked me here until I agreed."

I looked at Grandpa.

"You did this to them?"

"Not me."

"Then who?"

Grandpa closed his eyes.

"Your father."

I turned toward Dad.

He was standing at the bottom of the stairs.

His expression was no longer angry.

It was empty.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because they would have taken you away from this family."

"That's your excuse?"

"Every woman who loved you wanted to make you leave. They wanted to take you away, just like your mother tried to do."

My heart pounded.

"Mom tried to take me away?"

Dad said nothing.

Grandpa finally spoke.

"Your mother discovered what this family was doing. She wanted to expose the chapel. She planned to take you and leave the village."

"What happened to her?"

Dad's silence answered before his words did.

"She left," he said.

"You're lying."

I stepped toward him.

"You told everyone she died because of an illness. But she didn't die, did she?"

Dad's eyes flickered.

I saw it.

The hesitation.

The fear.

For the first time, I knew my mother might still be alive.

I grabbed another box and began searching through it.

Then I found an envelope with my name written across the front.

My hands shook as I opened it.

Inside was a photograph of my mother standing outside a train station.

On the back, there was a handwritten message.

"Alex, if you're reading this, I'm sorry I couldn't come back for you. Your father will tell you I abandoned you. Don't believe him. I left because I needed to find a way to protect you."

There was another line beneath it.

"The chapel is not sacred. It is a weapon."

I looked up at Dad.

"Where is she?"

He remained silent.

Then a phone rang somewhere in the underground room.

Everyone froze.

It wasn't Dad's phone.

It wasn't mine.

The ringing was coming from one of the locked boxes.

I opened it.

An old phone was vibrating inside.

The screen showed a single incoming call.

Mom.