Chapter 2: The Voice I Buried With Him
It was David's class ring.
The one I'd slipped off his finger at the hospital the night before they said he d*ed.
The one I'd buried in a shoebox under my bed and cried over for two years before my mother told me to throw it away.
I threw it away.
Or I thought I did.
The phone rang twice.
Then a man's voice said, "Laura."
I couldn't breathe.
"I know this is a shock.
I'm sorry.
I've been trying to reach you for three years."
The voice was older.
Rougher.
But the way he said my name — slow, careful, like it was something fragile — I'd only ever heard one person say it that way.
"David?" I whispered.
Ellie was staring at me.
I turned away so she wouldn't see my face.
"I didn't d*e in that fire, Laura.
I was taken to a hospital two states away.
By the time I could speak, my parents had already told everyone I was g0ne." His voice dropped.
"They had a reason for that.
And your family knew."
My legs gave out.
I sat down hard on the attic floor.
"What do you mean my family knew?"
He was quiet for a moment.
"Your brother was in that house the night of the fire, Laura.
He wasn't supposed to be there."
The room tilted.
"I have proof," David said.
"But there's something else.
Something I found out last year that I don't know how to tell you."
Then the line went silent.
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What David found out last year is the secret that changes everything.
Click the link below to read the full story — and find out what Laura's brother was really doing in that house the night of the fire.
