Story Part 2 — The Empty House

I froze on the staircase.

Someone was downstairs.

A man’s voice called softly:

“Mary?”

My heart began pounding.

I quietly stepped back toward the bedroom and pulled the door almost closed.

Footsteps moved across the floor.

Then I heard another voice.

A woman’s voice.

“She’s not here.”

I recognized it immediately.

It was my daughter’s voice.

But something about the way she spoke made my blood run cold.

“Mom?”

I whispered.

The footsteps stopped.

For several seconds, there was complete silence.

Then Mary appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

She looked older.

Much older.

Her hair was shorter, and there were dark circles beneath her eyes.

But it was definitely my daughter.

“Mom…”

She stared at me in disbelief.

“What are you doing here?”

I couldn’t answer.

I simply walked down the stairs and hugged her.

She didn’t hug me back.

Instead, her arms remained stiff at her sides.

I pulled away.

“Mary, what’s happening?”

Her eyes immediately filled with tears.

“Mom, you shouldn’t have come.”

“Why?”

She looked toward the front door.

Then she lowered her voice.

“Because you’re not supposed to know about this house.”

My stomach tightened.

“What do you mean?”

She grabbed my hand.

“Come with me.”

She led me into the kitchen and locked the door.

Then she checked the windows.

Only after that did she speak.

“The money you’ve been receiving…”

“Yes?”

“It isn’t from my salary.”

I stared at her.

“What?”

Mary swallowed.

“I haven’t worked for twelve years.”

My mouth fell open.

“Then where did the $80,000 come from?”

She looked down.

“From Kang Jun.”

“But I never see him.”

“You weren’t supposed to.”

“Why?”

Mary began crying.

“He told me that if I ever contacted you, he’d stop everything.”

I felt dizzy.

“Stop what?”

She didn’t answer.

Instead, she took my hand and led me upstairs.

Back to the room with the boxes.

She opened one.

Inside were stacks of documents.

Bank statements.

Property records.

Photographs.

And something else.

A passport.

I picked it up.

It belonged to Kang Jun.

The expiration date was twelve years ago.

I looked at Mary.

“Where is your husband?”

She wiped her tears.

“He disappeared the day after our wedding.”

I couldn’t breathe.

“But I’ve been sending money to you for twelve years.”

“No.”

She shook her head.

“Someone has been sending it.”

I stared at the boxes.

“Who?”

Mary looked toward the locked bedroom door.

“I don’t know.”

Then she pulled out a photograph.

It showed Kang Jun standing beside a group of men.

On the back was a handwritten date.

The same date as my daughter’s wedding.

I noticed something in the corner of the photograph.

A little boy.

Maybe six years old.

I pointed at him.

“Who is that?”

Mary went completely pale.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to find out.”

Suddenly…

We heard a car stop outside.

Mary grabbed my arm.

“Mom, hide.”

“What?”

“Please!”

She pushed me into the closet and closed the door.

I could hear her breathing.

Then the front door opened.

A man’s voice echoed through the house.

“Mary.”

She didn’t answer.

The footsteps slowly climbed the stairs.

One step.

Then another.

Then another.

They stopped directly outside the bedroom.

The door handle began turning.

Mary whispered:

“Don’t make a sound.”

The door opened.

I could see only a pair of black shoes beneath the closet door.

The man walked into the room.

Then he said something that made my heart stop.

“Your mother has arrived, hasn’t she?”

Mary began crying.

The man continued:

“She was never supposed to find the money.”

Silence.

Then he added:

“Because that money wasn’t being sent to her.”

I covered my mouth.

The footsteps moved closer to the closet.

And then…

The man stopped directly in front of me.

He whispered:

“Mrs. Theresa…”

I froze.

He knew exactly where I was.

Then the closet door began to open.

And the face standing behind it…

Was someone I had seen before.

Someone I never imagined could possibly be connected to my daughter’s disappearance.

And what he told me next revealed why Mary had never been allowed to come home for twelve years.

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