Chapter 3 — David unrolls the second note from the bottom tray — Then reads a more detailed message about a locked pantry
David pinched the edges of the coffee-stained paper.
He pulled it free from beneath the plastic tray.
The paper was thick, torn from the back of an old legal pad.
He unfolded it slowly on the kitchen island.
Jessica remained on the floor by the pantry, her breathing shallow and erratic as she stared at the linoleum.
Chloe crept closer, peering over the edge of the counter to read the scrawled handwriting.
The ink was smudged in several places, as if water had dripped onto the page while it was being written.
David read the first line aloud.
“I have to lock the upper pantry before the noise starts.”
Jessica gasped, her head snapping up from her knees.
“What?” Jessica whispered.
“What does that mean?”
David scanned down to the next paragraph.
“The second note mentioned the upstairs room,” David said, his eyes scanning the detailed instructions.
“It says: ‘If the boxes stop piling up in the cold, they will check the back of the pantry shelf.'”
Chloe clutched the hem of her school uniform.
“What are they checking for, Daddy?” Chloe asked.
David did not answer immediately.
He kept reading the jagged handwriting.
The note described a routine that David had never witnessed.
It detailed how the author packed identical metal lunchboxes night after night while the house was asleep, placing them in the refrigerator so they would not be discovered upstairs.
“You said you didn’t remember doing this,” David said, looking down at his wife.
“I didn’t,” Jessica cried, pressing her palms against her temples. “I swear to you, David, I didn’t write that.
I haven’t used a legal pad in months.”
“The handwriting matches the note in Chloe’s lunchbox,” David said quietly.
“It’s yours.”
“It can’t be,” Jessica sobbed.
“I would know if I was doing this.”
Before David could question her further, a loud metallic clatter echoed directly from the upstairs hallway.