Chapter 13 - The Moon House
The Vale farmhouse had not appeared in company records for decades.
Arthur transferred it into a private trust before Roman was born.
The house stood alone beneath gray September skies.
Its front door had once been red.
Three enormous maple trees bordered the drive.
Roman stared through the windshield.
Sophie’s drawing had been exact.
She sat beside him.
Her breathing had become shallow.
Roman took her hand.
“We don’t have to go inside.”
“Yes, we do.”
“You don’t have to prove anything.”
“I want to know.”
Roman nodded.
Claire, Nora, Evelyn, and Daniel followed.
Trust was still fragile.
But danger had forced them into the same place.
Inside, dust covered everything.
Furniture remained beneath white sheets.
The grandfather clock stood in the hallway.
Roman touched its wooden case.
Claire wound it.
Four notes played.
Sophie flinched.
“I remember.”
Roman crouched.
“What?”
“Grandpa held me.”
“Where?”
She pointed upstairs.
They followed.
At the top was a narrow bedroom.
Sophie entered slowly.
A faded moon had been painted on the wall.
The moon house.
She walked toward the closet.
“Uncle Victor was angry.”
Claire stiffened.
“What did he say?”
Sophie closed her eyes.
“He wanted Grandpa to give him something.”
“What?”
“I don’t know.”
“What happened next?”
“Grandpa told me to hide.”
She stepped inside the closet.
Roman followed.
Behind hanging sheets was a child-sized opening.
A crawlspace.
Sophie pointed.
“I went there.”
Roman shined a flashlight inside.
Scratches marked the wood.
Small handprints.
Sophie crawled in.
Roman went behind her.
At the end was a vent overlooking the room next door.
Arthur’s office.
Sophie looked through it.
Her face tightened.
“I watched them.”
Roman felt Claire beside him.
“What did you see?”
Sophie whispered.
“Victor hit Grandpa.”
Claire shut her eyes.
“Then another man came.”
Roman’s pulse quickened.
“Who?”
“I couldn’t see his face.”
“What did he do?”
“He had a shovel.”
Roman remembered Sophie’s words.
That’s where Grandpa buried the man.
“Who was buried?”
Sophie’s eyes opened.
“No.”
“What?”
“Grandpa didn’t bury him.”
She looked terrified.
“Victor did.”
Roman’s heartbeat slowed.
“Who?”
Sophie pointed toward the backyard.
They went outside.
Behind the third maple tree, the ground dipped unnaturally.
Evelyn called local federal contacts she trusted.
Within two hours, forensic technicians arrived.
They dug.
Bones appeared before sunset.
One adult male.
Buried roughly seven years earlier.
A metal watch remained around the wrist.
Roman recognized it.
Daniel did too.
“Dr. Hill.”
The family physician.
The man who had declared Arthur dead.
Claire whispered.
“Victor killed him.”
Roman looked at her.
“Why?”
“Because Hill knew Arthur survived.”
Evelyn crouched beside the grave.
“There’s something in his coat.”
A sealed plastic packet.
Inside was a microcassette.
Old.
Damaged.
But intact.
They found a recorder inside the farmhouse.
Static filled the room.
Then voices.
Arthur.
Dr. Hill.
Victor.
The recording was chaotic.
Victor shouted.
“You should have stayed dead.”
Arthur answered.
“You should never have gone near Sophie.”
Victor laughed.
“You built the perfect key and put it inside a child.”
Arthur responded.
“She isn’t the key.”
“She is the witness.”
A struggle.
Dr. Hill shouting.
Then another voice entered.
Female.
Claire stood abruptly.
“No.”
Roman listened.
The woman said.
“Victor, stop.”
Claire shook her head.
“That isn’t me.”
But it sounded exactly like her.
Roman looked at her.
Claire whispered.
“I wasn’t there.”
The tape continued.
Arthur shouted the woman’s name.
“Catherine!”
Claire went pale.
Roman stared.
“You were there.”
“No.”
“Arthur called you.”
“I swear to you.”
The recording continued.
Victor said.
“You came late.”
The woman answered.
“I came to finish it.”
A gunshot.
Sophie screamed.
Not present-day Sophie.
Toddler Sophie on the recording.
Claire covered her mouth.
Roman’s eyes filled with horror.
The tape ended.
Nobody spoke.
Roman looked at Claire.
“You shot someone.”
“No.”
“Your voice is on the tape.”
“I wasn’t there.”
Sophie stared at her mother.
Claire knelt.
“Birdie, look at me.”
Sophie stepped backward.
Roman’s heart broke.
Claire began crying.
“I did not hurt Grandpa.”
Sophie whispered.
“You were there.”
Claire froze.
“You remember me?”
Sophie nodded slowly.
“But your hair was different.”
Claire stared.
“How?”
Sophie touched her own cheek.
“You had a scar here.”
Claire had no scar.
Roman understood before anyone else.
He looked at Victor’s plastic-surgery records.
Then at Claire.
“Victor wasn’t the only one who changed his face.”
Claire stared back.
Roman whispered.
“There was another woman.”
Evelyn spoke quietly.
May you like
“Someone made herself look like Claire.”
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