Chapter 22 — Twelve Years of Silence

Chapter 22 — Twelve Years of Silence

Miyaka stood beneath the porch light with the pendant resting in her palm.

She couldn't stop looking at the photograph.

Her mother.

Young, smiling, holding a baby Miyaka against her chest.

The picture was faded at the edges, but the expression on her mother's face was unmistakable.

Warm.

Happy.

Alive.

The date written on the back was the same date Miyaka had memorized years ago.

The date of her mother's death.

She remembered that day too clearly.

The hospital corridor.

The smell of disinfectant.

Her father's hand wrapped around hers.

The way adults lowered their voices whenever she entered the room.

The funeral.

The black clothes.

The flowers.

The coffin.

Everything.

She remembered all of it.

So how could her mother have written those words?

I never left you.

Jason stood beside her.

“We need to go inside.”

Miyaka didn't respond.

“Miyaka.”

“I saw her.”

“I know.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I mean I really saw her.”

Jason looked at her.

“I know.”

“She looked older.”

He hesitated.

“What?”

“She looked older.”

Miyaka's eyes remained fixed on the photograph.

“If someone was pretending to be her, they could copy her face. They could copy her voice. But…”

She touched the picture.

“They wouldn't know how she would look now.”

Jason didn't answer.

That was the problem.

There were too many things he couldn't explain.

They went back inside.

Miyaka placed the pendant on the table beside her father's notebook.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

Then Jason said, “We should call Moises again.”

This time, Miyaka didn't argue.

She called.

He answered on the second ring.

“Miyaka?”

His voice immediately changed when he heard her breathing.

“What happened?”

“My mother.”

Silence.

Then, “What about her?”

“I saw her.”

Moises didn't speak.

Jason watched Miyaka.

Finally, Moises asked quietly, “Are you sure?”

Miyaka almost laughed.

The question hurt.

“I'm not a child, Moises.”

“I didn't mean—”

“I know what you meant.”

She took a breath.

“I saw her on the security camera. Jason saw her too.”

Another pause.

“Where are you now?”

“At home.”

“Lock everything.”

“Already did.”

“I'll be there.”

“You don't have to.”

“I know.”

Miyaka closed her eyes.

Again.

That phrase.

For some reason, tonight it didn't annoy her.

Maybe because she knew what he meant now.

He wasn't coming because he was obligated.

He was coming because he wanted to.

“Okay,” she whispered.

The call ended.

Jason sat down.

“You two are getting dangerously good at communicating.”

Miyaka looked at him.

“Don't start.”

He raised his hands.

“I didn't say anything.”

“You were about to.”

“I was thinking it.”

“That counts.”

Jason smiled.

For a moment, the tension eased.

Then his eyes fell on the pendant.

“We should figure out what this is.”

Miyaka picked it up.

The metal was cold.

There was a tiny seam along the edge.

Jason noticed.

“Wait.”

“What?”

“Try opening it.”

Miyaka examined the pendant.

It was small enough to fit between two fingers.

She pressed the edge.

Nothing.

Jason tried.

Still nothing.

Miyaka turned it over.

There was a tiny indentation near the bottom.

She pressed it with her fingernail.

Click.

The pendant opened.

Inside the photograph was a second piece of paper.

So small it was almost impossible to see.

Miyaka carefully pulled it free.

A single line was written on it.

The truth is not beneath the tree.

She frowned.

Jason leaned closer.

“What does that mean?”

“I don't know.”

Below the sentence was another symbol.

Not the Valmont symbol.

Something different.

Three small circles connected by a line.

Jason stared at it.

“I've seen that.”

“Where?”

He thought for a moment.

“My father's documents.”

Miyaka's heart began beating faster.

“Where?”

“I'm not sure.”

He grabbed the folder.

Papers shifted as he searched through them.

Then he stopped.

“Here.”

He pulled out an old photocopy.

At the bottom was the same three-circle symbol.

Miyaka looked at the document.

It was an old property record.

Her father's name appeared on it.

So did her mother's.

And beneath their names was another location.

Miyaka read it twice.

“What's that?”

Jason looked at her.

“An old Reyes property.”

“Where?”

“Outside the city.”

“Do you know it?”

“My father mentioned it once.”

“What did he say?”

Jason's expression changed.

“He told me never to go there.”

Miyaka leaned back.

“Of course he did.”

Jason laughed quietly.

“Apparently our parents were very committed to keeping us ignorant.”

“That's one word for it.”

A car approached outside.

Both of them turned.

Headlights swept across the living-room wall.

Miyaka's heart jumped.

Jason stood.

The car stopped.

A door opened.

Footsteps approached.

Then there was a knock.

This time, Jason didn't move.

Miyaka knew who it was.

She could feel it.

She walked to the door and opened it.

Moises stood outside.

His hair was damp from the rain.

His expression was tense.

His eyes immediately searched Miyaka from head to toe.

“You're okay?”

She nodded.

“Yes.”

He stepped inside.

His eyes landed on the pendant.

He stopped.

“Where did you get that?”

Miyaka held it out.

“My mother left it.”

Moises stared at it.

Something flickered across his face.

Recognition.

Miyaka noticed.

“You've seen it before.”

He looked at her.

“Yes.”

Her stomach tightened.

“When?”

“My father had one.”

Jason stood.

“Your father had the same pendant?”

“Not exactly.”

Moises picked it up carefully.

He examined the engraving.

“This was part of something.”

“Something what?”

He looked at Miyaka.

“A collection.”

Jason frowned.

“What collection?”

Moises placed the pendant back on the table.

“I don't know.”

Miyaka crossed her arms.

“You know more than you're saying.”

He looked at her.

“Yes.”

She waited.

He exhaled.

“When I was seventeen, before I left, I saw my father arguing with your mother.”

Miyaka froze.

“My mother?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“At our house.”

“When?”

“The day before I disappeared.”

Her chest tightened.

“You never told me that.”

“I didn't remember until tonight.”

Jason stepped closer.

“What were they arguing about?”

Moises looked toward the window.

“I couldn't hear everything.”

“Moises.”

He looked back at her.

“But I remember one thing.”

“What?”

“Your mother said she wouldn't give him what he wanted.”

Miyaka's heartbeat became louder.

“What did he want?”

“I don't know.”

“Did she have the pendant?”

Moises nodded slowly.

“Yes.”

Miyaka stared at him.

Her mother had possessed the pendant before she died.

Moises had seen it.

Her father had written about the hidden agreement.

The stranger had warned her.

And now an old property record had appeared.

The pieces were beginning to form a shape.

But Miyaka still couldn't see the whole picture.

Moises stepped closer.

“Miyaka.”

She looked at him.

“Whatever we find at that property, don't go there alone.”

She almost smiled.

“You really like telling me what not to do.”

“I know.”

She gave him a look.

He smiled faintly.

Then his expression softened.

“I'm serious.”

“So am I.”

She picked up the pendant.

“We're going.”

Jason looked between them.

“I assume that's a group decision.”

Miyaka nodded.

“It always was.”

Moises's eyes met hers.

For a second, something old passed between them.

Something familiar.

Something that belonged beneath a mango tree, before secrets and lies and fourteen missing years.

He looked away first.

“Then we go tomorrow.”

Miyaka nodded.

But before anyone could say anything else, her phone vibrated.

An unknown number.

A message.

She opened it.

There was only one sentence.

Don't go to the Reyes house in San Aurelio.

Miyaka's eyes narrowed.

Jason leaned closer.

“That's the property.”

She nodded.

Then another message appeared.

Your mother went there the night she disappeared.

Miyaka stopped breathing.

A third message arrived.

If you want to know whether she died, go alone.

Moises took the phone from her hand.

His expression hardened.

“No.”

Miyaka stared at him.

“What?”

“You're not going alone.”

“I wasn't planning to.”

He looked at Jason.

“Neither of you.”

Jason frowned.

“Then who goes?”

Moises looked at Miyaka.

“We go together.”

Miyaka stared at him.

For once, she didn't argue.

Because beneath the fear was something else.

A terrible, fragile hope.

For twelve years, she had believed her mother was gone.

Now there was a possibility—however small, however dangerous—that the story she had been given was a lie.

And if that was true…

Miyaka wasn't sure she was ready to find out what had really happened the night her mother disappeared.