But remember… this secret goes with you to the grave.”
When she opened it, she almost fainted: inside was part of a human body and an envelope stuffed with money.
The initial amount was a few hundred thousand, but over time, those people kept sending more, as a way to buy her silence. She didn’t dare spend it; she kept it all, along with that cursed “proof.” Every time she saw it, she trembled… but she couldn’t get rid of it for fear that they would “disappear” us if it came to light.
The last page read:
“Forgive me. I was going to take this secret with me, but I’m afraid they’ll come back one day.
If that happens… take our son far away.
Don’t come back.”
I closed the notebook, my heart pounding. I remembered faces and situations that hadn’t seemed strange before, but that now took on a sinister meaning. Outside, the neighbor’s dog was barking furiously… and suddenly, there was absolute silence.
I turned toward the front door, which vibrated softly as if someone had just knocked on it.
A shiver ran down my spine. I looked toward the room where my son was sleeping, then at the still-open box.
Without thinking, I stuffed the notebook into my jacket, closed the box, and pushed it to the back of the closet. I understood that all my questions would have to wait… if I ever got the chance.
A knock sounded at the door: slow, heavy.
I took a deep breath, walked over, and opened it. The light from the hallway illuminated the silhouette of a person standing motionless, their face hidden in shadow. In a deep, raspy voice, they said only three words:
“It’s time.”
In that instant, I knew that, from that moment on, my son’s life and mine would never be the same.
