Chapter 7: The House by the Lake
Rebecca stared at the ringing phone in her hand.
No one spoke.
The sound seemed unnaturally loud in Gloria’s bedroom.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then Rebecca answered.
“Mom?””
For a second, all we could hear was static.
Then Gloria’s voice came through.
Thin.
Breathless.
“Are you alone?””
Rebecca looked at all of us.
“No.””
A pause.
“Is Charles there?””
Rebecca’s eyes moved toward my father.
“Yes.””
Gloria exhaled sharply.
“Put me on speaker.””
Rebecca did.
The room became completely still.
“Where are you?”” Noah asked.
Gloria ignored him.
“Rebecca, listen to me. You need to leave that house.””
Rebecca’s voice hardened.
“No.””
“Please.””
“You don’t get to say please now.””
“I’m trying to protect you.””
Rebecca laughed.
“You’ve spent seventeen years calling lies protection.””
Gloria’s voice cracked.
“I know.””
That stopped everyone.
Rebecca stared at the phone.
“What did you say?””
“I know.””
Gloria sounded different.
Not controlling.
Not sharp.
Afraid.
I stepped closer.
“Where are you?””
Another pause.
“At the lake.””
My chest tightened.
Rebecca’s face went blank.
“No.””
Gloria continued.
“The Mercer house.””
Noah whispered, “The same house?””
“Yes.””
Rebecca backed into the dresser.
“Why?””
“Because there is something here you need to see.””
Charles suddenly moved.
“No.””
We all turned.
His face had drained of color.
Gloria heard him.
“Charles.””
He stepped toward the phone.
“Don’t do this.””
Gloria gave a bitter laugh.
“You had seventeen years to do it yourself.””
“Gloria.””
“No.””
Her voice sharpened.
“We ruined enough lives.””
Charles closed his eyes.
Rebecca looked between them.
“What’s at the lake house?””
Gloria went quiet.
Then she said, “The room.””
Rebecca froze.
“What room?””
“You won’t remember it.””
Her breathing changed.
I stepped closer.
“Rebecca?””
She held up one hand.
“Mom, what room?””
Gloria’s voice dropped.
“The downstairs guest room.””
Rebecca shook her head.
“There wasn’t a downstairs guest room.””
“Yes, there was.””
“No.””
“You never saw it from inside the house.””
Noah frowned.
“What does that mean?””
Gloria answered him.
“It had an outside entrance.””
Rebecca’s face became white.
A memory was moving through her.
I could see it.
“What?”” I asked.
She pressed one hand to her temple.
“There was a door.””
Gloria whispered, “Yes.””
Rebecca’s eyes filled.
“I remember a green door.””
Charles turned away.
My heart began pounding.
Gloria continued.
“Come to the lake house.””
Laura stepped in.
“Why not tell us now?””
“Because you won’t believe me.””
“Try.””
“No.””
“Gloria—”
“There are photographs.””
Everyone froze.
Rebecca whispered, “Photographs?””
“I found them tonight.””
“Of what?””
Gloria started crying.
That terrified me more than anything she had said.
“I’m sorry.””
Rebecca’s face broke.
“What did you do?””
“I didn’t know at first.””
“Know what?””
“Come here.””
The call ended.
Rebecca stared at the phone.
Noah immediately grabbed his coat.
“We’re going.””
Charles blocked the doorway.
“No.””
Noah stopped.
“Move.””
“You’re not going to that house.””
“Why?””
“It isn’t safe.””
“For who?””
My father said nothing.
I stepped between them.
“Dad.””
He looked at me.
“You know what’s there.””
“No.””
“That’s a lie.””
“I know what might be there.””
Rebecca stepped forward.
“What?””
Charles looked at her.
His voice was tired now.
“I found out years later that Daniel’s father had installed cameras around the property.””
My stomach turned.
Laura whispered, “Cameras?””
Charles nodded.
“He was paranoid about theft.””
Noah stared at him.
“Inside the house?””
Charles didn’t answer.
Rebecca made a choking sound.
I felt sick.
“Answer him.””
“Yes.””
Silence.
Rebecca covered her mouth.
I looked at my father.
“And you think Gloria found old footage?””
“Photographs, maybe still frames.””
“Of that night?””
“I don’t know.””
“That’s why you don’t want us going.””
“I don’t want Rebecca seeing something she can never unsee.””
Rebecca laughed bitterly.
“You helped hide seventeen years of my life.””
Charles looked devastated.
“I know.””
“No. You know words. I lived it.””
She pushed past him.
“We’re going.””
The Mercer lake house was forty minutes away.
I remembered the road.
That surprised me.
Seventeen years had passed, but certain turns remained buried somewhere inside me.
The last mile ran through thick trees.
Rain streaked across the windshield.
When the house appeared, Rebecca stopped breathing.
It had once been beautiful.
Now it looked abandoned.
Dark cedar siding.
A wide porch.
Tall windows.
The lake behind it black beneath the night sky.
One light glowed downstairs.
Gloria’s car was parked outside.
We got out.
Charles came too, despite everything.
Noah stayed beside Rebecca.
Emily stayed close to Laura.
I walked toward the porch with a memory I didn’t want.
Music.
Teenagers laughing.
Rebecca in that white sweater.
Me kissing her beside the dock.
Then leaving.
Leaving.
I had spent seventeen years believing that was the last important thing that happened that night.
Now I knew it was only the beginning.
The front door stood open.
“Gloria?”” Rebecca called.
No answer.
We entered.
Dust covered the floor.
Furniture sat beneath white sheets.
The air smelled damp and old.
A flashlight beam moved downstairs.
Noah pointed.
“There.””
A narrow staircase led toward the basement.
Rebecca stopped.
“I don’t remember this.””
Charles whispered, “Most people didn’t know it was here.””
She turned.
“You did?””
“Later.””
We descended.
At the bottom was a concrete hallway.
A green door stood at the end.
Rebecca gripped Noah’s arm.
“That’s it.””
Her voice sounded far away.
I moved toward the door.
It was open.
Inside, Gloria sat on an old chair.
A cardboard box rested on a table.
She looked twenty years older than she had earlier.
Rebecca entered.
“Mom.””
Gloria stood.
“I’m sorry.””
Rebecca didn’t answer.
Gloria looked at Noah.
Then me.
Then Charles.
Finally she opened the box.
Inside were photographs.
Dozens.
Polaroids.
Printed still frames.
Old VHS tapes.
Laura whispered, “Jesus.””
Gloria picked up one image.
“I found these hidden behind a false panel.””
She handed it to Rebecca.
Rebecca looked down.
Her whole body went rigid.
I moved beside her.
The photo showed the outside of the green door.
Timestamp:
June 28.
11:47 p.m.
A young Rebecca was being helped toward the door.
Her head was down.
Her body limp.
Two people were beside her.
One was Daniel Mercer.
The other—
Rebecca whispered, “Sarah.””
Her best friend.
Noah stared.
“Mom?””
Rebecca flipped to the next photograph.
11:52 p.m.
Sarah leaving.
Daniel remaining.
The next.
12:03 a.m.
Another young man arriving.
I didn’t recognize him.
Charles did.
“Oh God.””
I looked at him.
“Who is that?””
He sat down heavily.
“Eric Mercer.””
“Daniel’s brother?””
Charles nodded.
Rebecca stared at him.
“There were two brothers?””
“Yes.””
Gloria whispered, “That’s what I didn’t know.””
Rebecca’s hands began trembling.
“Why is he there?””
Nobody answered.
She looked at the next photograph.
Then dropped it.
Noah reached for it.
Rebecca grabbed his wrist.
“No.””
He froze.
“Mom.””
“No.””
Her voice broke.
“You don’t need to see.””
Gloria started crying again.
I picked up the photo before Noah could.
It showed Eric Mercer coming back out of the room.
Alone.
The timestamp was forty minutes later.
Daniel stood in the hallway.
Watching.
I felt cold.
“Where is Eric now?””
Charles answered.
“Dead.””
Everyone looked at him.
“When?””
“Car accident. Twelve years ago.””
Rebecca stared at him.
“And Daniel?””
“Alive.””
Noah’s jaw tightened.
“Where?””
Charles didn’t answer.
“Where is he?””
“Chicago.””
Rebecca looked at Gloria.
“What happened in that room?””
Gloria covered her face.
“I don’t know every detail.””
“You know enough.””
“I found another tape.””
She pointed to the VHS box.
“One camera recorded audio.””
Rebecca stepped backward.
“No.””
Gloria nodded.
“I listened.””
Rebecca’s voice disappeared.
“What did you hear?””
Gloria looked at her daughter.
“I heard you asking for Michael.””
My throat closed.
Rebecca began crying.
Gloria continued.
“You kept saying you wanted to go home.””
Noah turned away.
Emily buried her face in Laura’s shoulder.
I could barely breathe.
Then Gloria said something that changed the entire meaning of the night.
“And I heard Daniel tell his brother, ‘She already thinks Michael was with her. She’ll never know the difference.’”
Rebecca’s knees buckled.
I caught her before she hit the floor.
“No.””
She grabbed my shirt.
“No, no, no.””
I held her upright.
Gloria was sobbing now.
“I’m sorry.””
Rebecca screamed at her.
“You knew!””
“Not then!””
“When?””
“Months later.””
“How?””
Gloria looked at Charles.
“Daniel’s father came to me.””
Charles closed his eyes.
I stared at him.
“You knew this?””
“Not all of it.””
Gloria stepped forward.
“He told me something had happened and that his sons had made a terrible mistake.””
“Sons?”” Noah whispered.
Gloria nodded.
“He wanted everything buried.””
Rebecca stared at the photographs.
Then at Noah.
Her face changed.
A new terror.
“No.””
I knew what she was thinking.
Noah knew too.
“If Michael is my biological father,” he said slowly, “then what were Daniel and Eric hiding?””
No one answered.
Then Gloria reached into the bottom of the box.
“There’s one more thing.””
She placed a sealed evidence envelope on the table.
Inside was a small silver necklace.
Rebecca gasped.
“My necklace.””
Gloria nodded.
“You wore it that night.””
Rebecca touched her throat instinctively.
“I lost it.””
“It was found in the room.””
Noah stared at it.
Then he saw something else inside the envelope.
A tiny dried hospital swab in old packaging.
Gloria whispered, “Daniel’s father kept samples.””
I felt sick.
“Why?””
“Because he didn’t trust anyone.””
Rebecca stared at the envelope.
Gloria looked at me.
“The DNA test they did on you seventeen years ago only proved you were Noah’s biological father.””
I frowned.
“What else could it prove?””
Gloria swallowed.
“Nothing.””
Then she looked at Noah.
“But modern testing can compare material from that room with surviving family members.””
Noah understood first.
“You mean Daniel.””
Gloria nodded.
“And Eric’s children.””
Silence.
Rebecca looked at the old evidence.
Then at me.
Her voice was almost gone.
“I want the truth.””
And from behind us, a floorboard creaked.
We turned.
A man stood in the basement doorway.
Late thirties.
Tall.
Blond hair now thinning at the temples.
A face I remembered from a college dorm seventeen years ago.
Daniel Mercer.
He looked at Rebecca.
Then Noah.
Then me.
May you like
And whispered,
“You should have left this buried.””
