Chapter 6 - THE LOCKER BENEATH THE FERRY TERMINAL
The storage facility had changed owners twice.
The old ferry terminal was now a parking garage.
But the basement lockers remained.
I stood before unit 417.
The paint was peeling.
The lock was rusted.
Christian stood beside me.
Gabriel waited near the stairs.
A federal investigator named Agent Rebecca Shaw examined the paperwork.
"The unit was paid through a trust," she said.
I frowned.
"What trust?"
She looked at me.
"One established by Thomas Cole."
My throat tightened.
"My father?"
She nodded.
"Payments continued after his death."
Christian looked toward her.
"By whom?"
Rebecca shook her head.
"That's what we're trying to determine."
The lock was opened under documented supervision.
Inside were three boxes.
An old suitcase.
A child's bicycle.
And a wooden music box.
I stopped breathing.
The music box was mine.
My father had given it to me for my tenth birthday.
I picked it up.
Its painted ballerina was missing one arm.
The lid was scratched.
I turned the key.
The melody began.
Seven notes.
A pause.
Four notes.
My hands trembled.
Christian watched.
"That's it?"
I nodded.
Rebecca examined the box.
"May I?"
I handed it over.
She opened the lower compartment.
Nothing.
Then Christian noticed a small metal plate beneath the base.
He pointed.
"That looks newer than the rest."
Rebecca documented it before carefully removing the plate.
Inside was a narrow compartment.
A sealed memory card.
And a folded note.
My name was written across the front.
MAYA.
I opened it.
My father's handwriting filled the page.
Sweetheart, if you're reading this, I couldn't come home.
My vision blurred.
I need you to know that none of this was your fault.
I pressed a hand over my mouth.
I made mistakes. I trusted people who didn't deserve it. But I never stopped trying to protect you and your mother.
Tears fell onto the paper.
Don't let anyone convince you that being afraid makes you weak. Courage is what you do while you're afraid.
I couldn't continue.
Christian stood beside me.
He didn't touch me.
He waited.
Finally, I read the last line.
Find the truth. Then build a life that doesn't belong to them.
I folded the letter.
Held it against my chest.
Rebecca took custody of the memory card.
"We'll examine it."
I nodded.
Christian looked at me.
"Are you okay?"
I laughed through tears.
"No."
He nodded.
"Fair."
I looked at him.
Then whispered:
May you like
"But I think I will be."
For the first time in eleven years, I believed it.
