Chapter 3
The envelope hadn't moved. It sat on the granite where he'd set it down, the string tied tight and the dark wax catching the overhead light. My mom stood between me and the island now, her hand back behind her like she could block me from seeing it without even looking at it.
"How did you get in here?" she said again. Her voice was lower this time, not loud like before. Her shoulders were up and her neck was tight the way it got when she was trying not to yell in front of me.
Daniel hadn't moved from the other side of the island. His hands were at his sides, palms showing a little, like he wanted her to see he wasn't holding anything else. The brown leather of his watch caught the light when he shifted his weight.
"I didn't force anything," he said. "The side door was unlocked."
My mom's head snapped toward the hallway. You could see the dark hall from where we stood, the back door at the far end past the laundry nook. The light from the kitchen didn't reach that far.
"It wasn't," she said. "I locked it."
I felt my stomach drop because I knew it was my fault. I'd gone to get the trash bin from the side steps after dinner and I'd left it. I hadn't pulled it hard enough to click.
Daniel looked at me then, not at her. His expression didn't change much, but his eyes softened a little.
"I knocked," he said to her. "Quietly. I didn't want to scare anyone. He heard me."
My mom looked down at me. Her hand was still behind her, hovering near my chest.
"Ethan," she said. "Did you open the door?"
I nodded before I could get words out. My throat was dry. "I heard it. It was soft. I thought it was you coming back from the garage. I said, 'Mom, someone's here.'"
That was exactly what I'd said. I remembered how quiet the knock had been, two light taps, barely louder than the fridge humming. I'd called for her and then I'd gone to the side door and turned the handle because it was already loose.
"I didn't mean to," I said. "He was just standing there in the hall. He didn't come all the way in at first."
Daniel took a half step back toward the hallway, like he was showing her what he'd done. He pointed with his chin, not his hand.
"I waited right there," he said. "On the mat. I told him I needed to speak with you. I told him I wasn't here to cause trouble."
My mom's breathing was uneven. She kept glancing between the dark hallway and his face and the envelope on the island. I could see her trying to make it fit the way she wanted it to fit, like a stranger breaking in so she could be angry instead of scared.
"You waited in my hallway," she said.
"Yes," Daniel said. "For almost a minute. I could have left. I was told to make sure it got to you directly, not just left on a step. So I waited."
The way he said it, calm and even, made it worse somehow. He wasn't defending himself the way people do when they get caught. He was explaining a job.
My mom's hand finally dropped from in front of me. She pressed it flat on the granite, fingers spread, as if she needed to hold herself up. I saw her knuckles go pale.
"You were told to come here," she said. Her voice was barely above a whisper now. "Someone told you to come to this house. To this family."
"Yes," Daniel said.
It hit her then, different than the fear when she'd thought he'd broken in. I watched her face change. The tight, angry line in her mouth loosened and her eyes went wider, but not shocked like before. This was a heavier kind of dread, like she already knew the answer to a question she hadn't asked out loud yet.
She looked down at the envelope again, at the wax seal. She didn't touch it.
"You didn't just pick us," she said. "You knew the address. You knew we were here."
Daniel nodded once. "I did."
The kitchen felt too quiet. The oven clock ticked to 6:42 and the fridge hummed. Outside the window it was already dark and I could see our reflections in the glass, all three of us around the island, none of us moving.
My mom finally looked at me again. Her eyes were wet but she wasn't crying. "Ethan, honey, did he say anything else at the door? Before you called me?"
I shook my head. "No. He just asked if you were home. I said you were in the kitchen."
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Daniel's hands flexed once at his sides. "I should have knocked louder," he said quietly, almost to himself. "I didn't want to frighten him."
My mom didn't answer that. She just stared at the envelope on the island like if she stared long enough it might disappear. Her dread had replaced the fear completely now, and I understood in a small, cold way that a stranger breaking in would have been easier for her to handle than what this actually was. Someone had sent him. Someone who knew our house, and our name, and that seal.
