Chapter 3 - The Secret in the Attic
Within twenty minutes, the church was left in the hands of confused relatives and hushed gossips. Arthur, Daniel, Sophie, and I piled into our family SUV, leaving Mark standing under the church portico, arguing furiously on his phone. The ride back to our family home was dead silent. Sophie sat in the back seat, her bulky tulle wedding dress spilling over Daniel’s lavender skirt. Neither of them cared about the dirt on their hems; their minds were entirely tethered to Emily.
Our house felt colder than usual. Since Emily’s passing, Arthur and I had kept the second floor largely closed off, unable to face the echoes of her laughter. We climbed the narrow, creaking ladder into the dusty attic. Sunlight filtered through the round gable window, illuminating floating motes of dust around the old furniture. In the corner sat Emily’s vintage mahogany jewelry box, covered in a thin veil of neglect. Sophie approached it like a sacred shrine, dropping to her knees on the bare wooden floorboards.
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Her delicate fingers stroked the carved floral lid before opening it. The familiar scent of vanilla and lavender—Emily’s signature perfume—wafted out, hitting us all like a physical blow. Arthur let out a choked sound and turned his back, leaning against an old trunk to compose himself. Sophie pulled out the top trays, revealing old plastic necklaces from childhood and friendship bracelets. Then, she pressed down on the left wooden divider just as Emily had described. With a faint click, a tiny hidden compartment popped open at the base.
Inside lay a small, tarnished brass key tagged with a handwritten label: Oak Street, Box 404. Wrapped around the key was another note, hastily scrawled on hospital stationery. Sophie unfolded it with trembling hands and read aloud: “If Daniel did his job and stopped the vows, go to the bank immediately. Mark isn't who he says he is. Look into his investment firm, and look into the day I collapsed at the office.” Sophie dropped the note, her face draining of blood. Emily had worked at the same commercial accounting firm where Mark served as senior partner. Until today, we all believed Emily’s sudden collapse five months ago was solely the onset of her aggressive illness. But Emily’s words hinted at something far more sinister.
