Chapter 1: The Child in the Storage Room
“Rot in there. You will never take MY family away from me!””
Kendra stood in the hallway, staring at the narrow storage-room door beneath the staircase.
Her lips remained perfectly still.
The words existed only inside her head.
She glanced toward the living room, listening for movement, then adjusted the sleeve of her cream-colored cardigan. A small smile appeared at the corner of her mouth.
Everything was under control.
The door was locked from the outside. The windows were covered. The old cardboard boxes concealed what she needed concealed.
And the little boy inside had learned not to cry too loudly.
Kendra turned and walked toward the guest bedroom.
She had just reached the doorway when she heard the front door open.
Gavin was home.
At thirty-nine, Gavin had spent most of his life believing that being a good father meant making sure his daughter never had to worry about anything. He worked long hours, paid the mortgage, packed Ava's lunches, and tried to make every weekend feel like a holiday.
His seven-year-old daughter was the center of his world.
And Kendra, his thirty-five-year-old wife, had always seemed like the woman who helped hold that world together.
Until that afternoon.
Gavin walked down the hallway, loosening his tie.
Then he stopped.
Ava was sitting cross-legged on the carpet outside the storage room. Her pink picture book lay open across her knees.
She was holding it toward the narrow gap beneath the door.
A faint tapping sound came from inside.
Three little knocks.
Ava turned a page.
“That's the part where the rabbit finds his family,” she whispered.
Another faint knock answered her.
Gavin frowned.
He looked at the book, then at the storage-room door.
The outside latch was secured.
“Con đang đọc truyện cho ai?”” he asked instinctively in Vietnamese? No. His voice was gentle, but the question came naturally in English.
“Who are you reading to?””
Ava looked up.
She didn't seem surprised to see him.
Instead, she pressed one finger against the page, as though she didn't want to lose her place.
“My friend,” she answered.
Gavin crouched beside her.
“Your friend?””
Ava nodded.
“He's scared to be alone.””
Gavin's expression changed.
“Who is?””
“The boy.””
For a moment, the hallway seemed unusually quiet.
Gavin looked at the door again.
“What boy, sweetheart?””
Ava lowered her voice.
“He lives in there.””
Gavin reached for the latch.
“Why is the door locked?””
Ava shrugged, her eyes dropping to the carpet.
“Mommy said it's not a place for children.””
A cold feeling moved through Gavin's chest.
He pulled the latch free.
The door opened.
Behind it was a cramped storage room filled with old suitcases, Christmas decorations, folded chairs, and cardboard boxes.
And between two stacks of boxes sat a little boy.
He looked about six.
His knees were pulled against his chest. His clothes were wrinkled, and his hair fell across his forehead. A half-empty bottle of water sat beside him.
The boy blinked against the hallway light.
He looked at Gavin.
Then at Ava.
His small hands tightened around the edge of his shirt.
Gavin stared.
“What the hell...?””
Footsteps suddenly rushed down the hallway.
Kendra appeared from the guest bedroom.
The moment she saw the open door, the color drained from her face.
“Close it!”” she shouted.
Gavin turned.
“What?””
“Gavin, close that door!””
Her voice was sharp, almost desperate.
She hurried toward him, one hand raised as though she could physically push the door shut again.
“Don't let him out!””
Gavin didn't move.
He looked at his wife.
Then he looked back at the child sitting among the boxes.
“Why is there a little boy locked in our storage room?””
Kendra swallowed.
“It's complicated.””
“Then explain it.””
“Not here.””
Gavin's jaw tightened.
“Where exactly would you prefer I find a six-year-old locked inside my house?””
Kendra glanced toward Ava.
“Sweetheart, go to your room.””
Ava stood, clutching her book.
“No.””
Kendra's eyebrows rose.
“Ava, I said—”
“He's my friend,” Ava interrupted.
“He doesn't like it when it's dark.””
Gavin felt something twist inside him.
He turned back toward the boy and lowered himself until they were eye level.
“Hey, buddy.””
The boy didn't answer.
“My name is Gavin. You're not in trouble.””
He extended an open hand.
“Come out with me.””
The child stared at his hand for several seconds.
Then he slowly uncrossed his legs.
He crawled forward, carefully avoiding the boxes, and reached for Gavin's fingers.
His hand was tiny.
Cold.
Gavin helped him stand, supporting his upper arm when his knees wobbled.
The boy stepped into the hallway.
Ava immediately moved beside her father.
“See?”” she whispered.
“I told you he was real.””
Gavin gently placed a hand on her shoulder.
“I know, sweetheart.””
Kendra remained outside the doorway.
Her fingers curled into the fabric of her cardigan.
“Gavin, you need to listen to me.””
He barely heard her.
The boy had just looked up at him.
His eyes traveled over Gavin's face, lingering on his forehead, his nose, and his mouth.
Then the child gently tugged at Gavin's hand.
His voice was barely audible.
“Daddy...?””
Gavin froze.
The word seemed to drain every sound from the house.
He looked down.
“What's that, buddy?””
The boy didn't repeat himself.
Instead, his sleeve slipped toward his elbow.
A small birthmark appeared on his right wrist.
It was shaped like a leaf.
Gavin stopped breathing.
Slowly, he lifted his own free right wrist.
There, just below his watch, was a birthmark with almost the exact same shape.
Two wrists.
Two nearly identical marks.
Gavin held them beside each other.
His voice trembled.
“That looks like my birthmark...””
He stared at the boy.
Then he turned toward Kendra.
“What is this?””
Kendra's eyes were fixed on their wrists.
Her lips pressed together.
The confident expression she'd worn all afternoon had disappeared.
Gavin took one step toward her, keeping the boy close to his side.
“Whose son is he?””
Kendra looked at Gavin.
Then at Ava, who was still standing beside her father with the picture book pressed against her chest.
Her hand, which had been raised to stop Gavin, slowly dropped.
Her lips parted.
And for the first time since Gavin had known her, his wife looked like someone who had no idea what to say.
May you like
But before she could answer, the little boy tightened his grip around Gavin's fingers.
And whispered something else.
