“Because my mom told me a secret about this house before she died. A secret that’s going to change his life.”
Margaret froze.
Footsteps echoed behind her.
A tall man in an impeccable charcoal suit stepped onto the porch. He carried himself like someone used to commanding boardrooms and headlines. But when his eyes landed on Emily, something flickered.
“What’s going on?” he asked. “Who is she?”
“She says her name is Emily… and that she has a secret.”
Emily’s chest tightened. She remembered her mother — Sarah Harper — pale from illness, gripping her hand in their tiny apartment in downtown Los Angeles.
If you ever choose to look for the truth, do it with respect… but do it.
The man stepped down one stair.
“What secret?”
“My mom worked here thirteen years ago,” Emily said quietly. “Her name was Sarah Harper.”
The name hit him like shattered glass.
“Sarah…” Daniel whispered.
Emily noticed it immediately — the small scar near his eyebrow. The nervous habit of running his hand through his hair.
“You do that when you’re anxious,” she said softly.
He froze.
“Come inside,” Daniel said, voice rougher now. “We’re not discussing this out here.”