Under His Roof

CHAPTER IX

The morning light filtered through the thin cotton curtains of my bedroom, but I didn't feel rested.

The small, folded square of paper felt like a burning weight beneath my

mattress.

Stop looking for him. Daphne.

The blue ink had seeped into my thoughts, making every creak of the floorboards sound like a warning. I got out of bed slowly, my mind racing as I tried to process the fact that someone had walked up to my bedroom in the middle of the night just to leave that message.

Whoever had written it knew what I was looking for.

And they wanted me to stop.

When I went downstairs, the house felt different.

The front door swung open while I was helping Mrs. Bennett dry dishes in the kitchen. A burst of laughter followed, along with the sound of sneakers hitting the entryway floor.

"I'm back, Mom!"

The voice was lighter and more energetic than Zeke's.

Mrs. Bennett smiled as she set down her dish towel.

"That's Lucky. He's been staying at his friend Toby's house since Tuesday because of some group school project. I was beginning to wonder when he'd finally come home for a proper meal."

A moment later, Zeke's younger brother walked into the kitchen and tossed his backpack onto a chair.

He looked a lot like Zeke around the eyes and hair, but that was where the resemblance seemed to end. Zeke carried himself like he was constantly prepared for a fight. Lucky seemed completely at ease, moving through the room with an effortless confidence.

He stopped when he noticed me.

His eyes widened with curiosity.

"You must be Daphne."

His friends waved from the front doorway before heading outside.

"I'm Lucky. Well, Lucas, technically, but nobody calls me that. Zeke told me you were staying here. I just didn't think you'd actually be here."

I gave him a small smile.

"Nice to meet you."

It felt strange being greeted by a Bennett who didn't immediately look at me like I was an inconvenience.

Over lunch, Lucky kept the conversation going with stories about school, his friends, and his disastrous attempts at cooking while he was away.

He was funny and completely comfortable talking to me. Unlike Zeke, he didn't seem interested in judging every word that came out of my mouth.

He asked about my old school, my classes, and what I thought of Cedar Ridge.

For the first time since I arrived, I felt my shoulders relax.

When Mrs. Bennett stepped onto the porch to answer a phone call, Lucky leaned back in his chair and rolled an apple between his hands.

"So," he said with a playful grin, "has my brother been an absolute nightmare to live with, or has he managed to act like a normal human being?"

I let out a quiet laugh.

"He's definitely not winning any hospitality awards."

"Sounds like Zeke."

Lucky chuckled before taking a bite of his apple.

"He's been stuck in serious mode for years. Honestly, I think he forgot how to relax around the time of that summer camp in 2018."

My smile disappeared.

I leaned forward and set my glass down.

"The summer camp?"

Lucky nodded.

"What do you mean?"

His expression became more thoughtful.

"I was only nine, so I don't remember everything. But Zeke used to joke around a lot more before that summer. After he came home with that red cast on his arm, he changed."

My fingers tightened around the edge of the table.

"He became really quiet. He put a bunch of his old camp stuff at the bottom of his closet and stopped talking about those two weeks completely."

"Did he keep anything specific?"

I tried to make my question sound casual.

"Like clothes?"

"Yeah."

Lucky thought for a moment.

"That old blue water sports jacket."

My heart skipped.

"He refused to throw it away, even when Mom tried to donate it a few years ago. He got strangely angry about it. Last time I saw it, it was still in the back of his closet underneath a bunch of old gear."

A cold feeling crept down my spine.

The blue jacket.

The same jacket from the photograph.

The same jacket worn by the third person standing beside Zeke and me.

Thomas Brown.

Zeke had kept that jacket hidden for eight years.

Before I could ask anything else, heavy footsteps sounded from the back porch.

The screen door opened.

Zeke walked into the kitchen carrying a metal toolbox.

He stopped when he saw Lucky and me sitting together at the table.

His eyebrows drew together immediately.

"Hey, Zeke," Lucky said, completely unaware of the tension that had just filled the room. "Daphne and I were talking about the old camp days."

Zeke went completely still.

He placed the toolbox on the counter with a sharp metallic clatter that made the glasses tremble.

His gray eyes moved straight to me.

The warning in them was unmistakable.

Then he looked at Lucky.

"Lucky, go take your laundry upstairs."

Lucky blinked.

"And keep your mouth shut about things you don't know anything about."

Lucky raised both hands.

"Alright. Relax. We were just talking."

He grabbed his backpack and gave me a quick, sympathetic look before heading upstairs.

Zeke waited until his brother's footsteps disappeared before turning back to me.

He walked toward the table and stopped in front of my chair.

"I told you to stop digging."

His voice was quiet, but there was anger underneath every word.

"Leave Lucky out of this, Daphne. I mean it."

I leaned back, refusing to let him see how much his warning unsettled me.

"I didn't force him to tell me anything."

I held his gaze.

"Maybe if you weren't hiding so many secrets, asking a simple question wouldn't scare you so much."

His jaw tightened.

For a moment, he looked like he might finally tell me everything.

His expression shifted, almost as if something painful had risen to the surface.

Then it disappeared.

He straightened, picked up his toolbox, and walked out of the kitchen without another word.

Later that evening, dinner ended in the same uncomfortable silence that had become normal in the Bennett house.

When I finally went upstairs, I sat on the edge of my bed with the lights off.

The house slowly settled around me.

A floorboard creaked downstairs.

A pipe groaned inside the wall.

Then came a soft knock at my door.

I stood immediately.

My heart began beating faster as I crossed the room and opened the door a few inches.

Lucky stood in the hallway.

He was wearing a dark hoodie, and his usual grin was gone. He glanced over his shoulder toward Zeke's closed bedroom door before looking back at me.

"Daphne," he whispered.

I opened the door a little wider.

"What is it?"

He lowered his voice.

"I didn't mean to get Zeke angry earlier."

He hesitated.

"But I know where he keeps the key to his closet trunk."

I stared at him.

"The trunk?"

Lucky nodded.

"If you really want to know about that blue jacket, I can help you get a look at it tomorrow while he's at work."

For a moment, I couldn't speak.

After everything that had happened, after the photographs, the missing memories, Thomas Brown, and the mysterious note, I finally had someone willing to help me.

And somehow, that person was Zeke's younger brother.

I looked toward the closed bedroom at the end of the hallway.

Then back at Lucky.

"What time does Zeke leave?"

Lucky gave me a nervous smile.

"Early."

My pulse quickened.

Tomorrow, I was going to find out what Zeke had been hiding.