PART 4 — THE MAN WHO KNEW EVERYTHING
“Give me that box.”
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
I held the box tightly against my chest.
“Why?”
He slowly walked closer.
“Because you don’t understand what you’re dealing with.”
Daniel stepped in front of me.
“Stay there.”
The man stopped.
He looked at Daniel.
“You promised her you would keep her secret.”
Daniel didn’t answer.
“And now you brought her mother into this.”
He sighed.
“Emma would be furious.”
My voice trembled.
“You knew about Emma’s secret?”
He looked at me.
“Yes.”
“Who are you?”
He gave a sad smile.
“My name is Thomas Bennett.”
I froze.
Bennett.
The name from Emma’s video.
Laura Bennett.
“Laura…”
He nodded.
“My sister.”
The world seemed to spin for a moment.
“Your sister?”
“Yes.”
“You’re the one who never gave up looking for her.”
His eyes filled with tears.
“For twenty years.”
I didn’t know what to say.
Thomas looked at the box.
“Emma found me six months ago.”
“Why?”
“Because she discovered Laura’s diary.”
“And then?”
“She told me she believed Laura never ran away.”
“You already knew that.”
“Knowing something and proving it are two different things.”
He looked at the USB drive.
“Emma had proof.”
I stared at the drive.
“What’s on it?”
Thomas answered:
“A recording.”
“Of what?”
“Someone talking about Laura.”
“Who?”
He hesitated.
Then he said:
“One of the teachers who was involved in her disappearance.”
My stomach turned.
“Is that person still alive?”
Thomas nodded.
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Before he could answer, another voice came from behind us.
“That doesn’t matter anymore.”
We turned around.
The principal stood in the doorway.
But he wasn’t alone.
Two men wearing dark jackets stood beside him.
I didn’t recognize them.
The principal looked at the box.
“Give it to me.”
Thomas shook his head.
“Not this time.”
The principal sighed.
“You’ve been doing the same thing for twenty years, Thomas.”
“And you’ve been lying for twenty years.”
A long silence filled the room.
I looked from one person to another.
“What is going on?”
Nobody answered.
Then I grabbed my phone.
“I’m calling the police.”
One of the men stepped forward.
“I wouldn’t do that.”
I looked at him.
“Why not?”
“Because you don’t know who you’re putting in danger.”
My hands started shaking.
“My daughter is dead.”
My voice grew stronger.
“My life has already been destroyed.”
I pointed toward the door.
“So tell me the truth.”
Thomas looked at me.
“Emma discovered that her accident was planned.”
My heart nearly stopped.
“What?”
“She met someone who tried to warn her.”
“Who?”
“Laura’s former friend.”
“Where is she?”
Thomas looked at the principal.
“Dead.”
The principal closed his eyes.
I felt tears forming.
“How?”
“A car accident.”
I looked at Thomas.
“Just like Emma?”
He nodded.
“Just like Emma.”
The USB drive suddenly felt impossibly heavy in my hand.
I turned it over.
There was one word written on it.
14.
“What does this mean?”
Thomas looked shocked.
“Where did you get that?”
“It was written on the drive.”
He didn’t take it.
“Emma told you about the red nose.”
“Yes.”
“Then you also need to know what 14 means.”
“I don’t know.”
Thomas looked at Daniel.
Daniel whispered:
“Fourteen names.”
My breath caught.
“Which names?”
Thomas answered:
“The people involved in 1998.”
“But why would Emma put that on a USB drive?”
“Because she knew her computer was being monitored.”
I looked at him.
“By whom?”
Thomas slowly pointed toward the principal.
My heart sank.
The principal shook his head.
“That’s not true.”
“You erased her laptop.”
“That was security protocol.”
“You deleted her files.”
“That’s nonsense.”
“You had her followed three days before her death.”
The principal looked away.
That was enough.
A wave of anger rushed through me.
“Why?”
He finally looked at me.
“Your daughter found something she should never have found.”
“What?”
He said nothing.
I walked closer.
“What did Emma find?”
He whispered:
“A name.”
“Whose name?”
He looked at the floor.
Then Thomas answered:
“The name of the person who stood on that stage today.”
My heart skipped.
“Daniel?”
“No.”
I looked toward the door.
The principal wasn’t pointing at Daniel.
He was pointing at someone else still standing in the hall.
The boy who had given me Emma’s letter.
Daniel.
But Thomas said:
“Not him.”
He pointed at the man behind the principal.
“Him.”
I looked at the man in the dark jacket.
And then I recognized him.
He wasn’t a stranger.
He was the police officer who had told me three months earlier that Emma’s death was an accident.
* * *
TO BE CONTINUED — PART 5: EMMA’S FILE
