Chapter 2

After saying that, Erin walked out.

I stood in the living room, one side of my cheek burning from the slap. Meanwhile, Miles leaned against the doorframe with a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“What exactly are you hiding in that room?” I demanded.

He gave me the same answer as before.

“It’s just some old stuff. Her turning on you had nothing to do with this. Maybe you two just had a misunderstanding.”

From then on, I kept an eye on that door.

During the day, while Miles was at work, I stayed home and watched the lock. I even tried picking it. I had barely slipped a screwdriver into the keyhole when I heard his voice behind me.

“Nora.”

I turned and found him standing behind me with a glass of water. I had no idea when he had arrived.

“I told you that room is off-limits.”

“What are you hiding in there?” I asked.

“That’s none of your business.”

“Two of my friends cut ties with me after going into that room!”

Miles set down his glass, and his smile vanished.

“Touch that door again, and our marriage is over.”

His gaze was so cold it sent chills down my spine, and I believed him.

Dad, who just so happened to come over for dinner that evening, sat silently nearby the whole time. As soon as Miles went into the kitchen, he called me out onto the balcony.

He was a veteran homicide detective with an instinct sharper than most people’s.

“Nora, something’s wrong with Miles.”

“I know.”

“Something’s going on in that room,” Dad added.

I nodded and told him what had happened with Zoe and Erin.

Dad was an honest, mild-mannered man who had never had a falling-out with anyone. He patted my shoulder and said, “Leave it to me.”

The next day, Miles left town on a business trip and would not be back for three days.

Dad found a piece of wire and crouched by the door, fiddling with the lock until it clicked open.

I was about to step inside when Dad stopped me.

“I’ll check it out first. There could be something dangerous inside.”

He glanced at me, pushed the door open, and stepped inside.

I waited outside, but not a sound came from the room.

After ten minutes, I called out tentatively, “Dad?”

But no one answered.

I was just about to push the door open when Dad emerged.

His face had turned ashen, and his lips trembled. He looked as though he had aged ten years in minutes.

“Dad? What did you see?”

He ignored me.

Slowly, he turned to face me, but he looked at me like I was a stranger.

“You…” His voice was so hoarse it barely sounded like his own. “How could you live with yourself after what you’ve done?”

He closed his eyes, then raised his hand and slapped me hard across the face.

“Dad, why did you hit me? What exactly is inside?”

Dad did not stop there. He grabbed the mop handle from behind the door and rained blows on me.

“You monster!”

I panicked. “What did I do?”

Dad suddenly raised his voice.

“You know perfectly well what you did! If… If you weren’t my daughter, I’d arrest you myself!”

He brought the mop handle down on my arms and back, leaving me rolling on the floor in agony.

I tried to run, but a kick in the knee sent me back down.

“I’m warning you,” he panted. “Keep your mouth shut about everything you’ve done, or I won’t be able to save you.”

I lay sprawled on the floor, in too much pain to get up.

In desperation, I pulled out my phone and called 911.

“Hello, is this the police? I’m calling to report domestic violence. My dad hit me.”

Soon, the police arrived.

The officer in charge, a middle-aged woman named Charlene Wakefield, frowned when she saw my bruised and swollen face.

“Who did this to you?”

I pointed at Dad.

Charlene called him over. “Sir, regardless of what happened, getting physical is unacceptable. You’re coming with us.”

Dad jutted his chin out.

“I’m teaching my daughter a lesson. It’s a family matter.”

“Domestic violence isn’t a family matter.”

Just then, the door opened.

Miles stood in the doorway, dragging a suitcase behind him.

“What’s going on here?”