The Secret Beneath the Garage
1620 Words
For several seconds, I couldn’t breathe.
I stared at the photograph.
The woman in it stared back.
Same dark curls.
Same scar beneath her left eye.
Same eyes I remembered from a childhood I had spent years believing was nothing more than a collection of nightmares.
Lyra Vale. Alive.
The words beneath her picture seemed to pulse.
“She’s alive,” I whispered.
Caelan didn’t answer.
I turned toward him.
“You said she was dead.”
“I said I thought she was dead.”
“You saw the photograph.”
“Yes.”
“And you still don’t have anything to say?”
His jaw tightened.
“I don’t know who took that picture.”
“But it says Lyra Vale.”
His eyes returned to the wall.
“Your father never told me her last name.”
I frowned.
“Then how did he know?”
“That’s what we’re here to find out.”
I stepped closer to the photograph.
There were dates written beneath several pictures.
Then
2004.
The year I was born.
My fingers brushed the edge of the photograph.
A thought suddenly struck me.
“Why does it say Lyra Vale?”
Caelan looked at me.
“What?”
“My surname.”
“Maybe your father gave it to her.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“My father barely spoke about her. Why would he give her our family name?”
Caelan walked toward the wall.
“Unless she was family.”
My heart stopped.
“No.”
He looked at me.
“You’re thinking it too.”
I stepped backward.
“She wasn’t my sister.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I would remember having a sister.”
“You were eight.”
“I would remember!”
My voice echoed through the room.
Silence followed.
Caelan didn’t argue.
Instead, he looked at the photograph again.
“Then let’s find out why your father kept her here.”
He began examining the shelves.
I watched him for a moment.
Then I noticed something.
A small red ribbon was tied around the corner of an old wooden box.
My stomach twisted.
I knew that ribbon.
Not because I’d seen it recently.
Because I’d seen it in my dreams.
I reached for it.
The instant my fingers touched the ribbon, a memory slammed into me.
A little girl sitting beneath a tree.
Lyra.
She was crying.
I was holding her hand.
A man was shouting somewhere behind us.
Then my father’s voice:
“Take Vespera and run.”
Another voice answered:
“What about Lyra?”
My father’s voice cracked.
“I’ll come back for her.”
I gasped and stumbled.
Caelan caught me before I hit the wall.
“Vespera.”
I gripped his shirt.
“My father left her.”
“What?”
“He told someone to take me and run.”
Caelan’s expression changed.
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“Try to remember.”
“I can’t.”
“It’s okay.”
His hands remained around my arms, steadying me.
“Don’t force it.”
I looked up at him.
For a moment, the room disappeared.
There was only his face.
His eyes.
His hands.
The warmth of his body so close to mine.
And something inside me shifted.
I didn’t like how safe I felt.
Not with him.
Not after everything I’d learned.
I stepped away.
“Don’t do that.”
His brow furrowed.
“Do what?”
“Make me feel safe.”
He looked at me for a long moment.
“I don’t know how to make you feel anything.”
“You do.”
His voice softened.
“Then maybe you should ask yourself why.”
I looked away.
That was exactly the question I didn’t want to answer.
A sudden sound came from the shelves.
Click.
We both turned.
One of the wooden panels had moved.
Caelan reached for it.
Behind the panel was a narrow compartment.
Inside was a black notebook.
He pulled it out.
My father’s handwriting covered the first page.
If Vespera ever finds this, she is old enough to know the truth.
My heart pounded.
Caelan handed it to me.
I opened the next page.
Vespera,
If you are reading this, then the past has found you.
I swallowed.
I need you to understand something before you judge me. I did not hide the truth because I didn’t love you. I hid it because loving you was the reason I had to lie.
My eyes blurred.
I wiped them quickly.
Caelan remained silent beside me.
I turned the page.
Twenty-two years ago, I discovered that someone inside the Black Vultures was selling information about the families connected to the club.
The name wasn’t written.
Instead, my father had drawn a black circle around three initials.
Z.C.
Caelan leaned closer.
“Zevran Crowe.”
I looked at him.
“You know him?”
“Everyone in the club knows the name.”
“Was he in the Black Vultures?”
“Once.”
“What happened?”
“He disappeared.”
I looked back at the notebook.
There was more.
Zevran believed I stole something from him.
Another page.
I didn’t.
Another.
The ledger wasn’t mine.
Another.
It belonged to someone who should have been protected.
I turned the page.
The next sentence made my blood run cold.
That someone was Lyra.
I stopped.
“Caelan.”
He read over my shoulder.
Neither of us spoke.
Lyra wasn’t simply connected to the mystery.
She was the reason for it.
I continued.
Lyra witnessed something she was never supposed to see. Because of that, Zevran wanted her dead.
My hand trembled.
I couldn’t protect both girls.
The words blurred.
So I made a choice.
I stopped reading.
“Both girls?”
Caelan looked at me.
“Vespera…”
I turned the page.
Nothing.
The rest had been torn out.
I stared at the jagged edge.
“No.”
I flipped through the notebook.
More pages were missing.
Someone had deliberately removed them.
“Who tore them out?”
“I don’t know.”
“You said you knew everything about the club.”
“I don’t.”
I slammed the notebook shut.
“I need answers.”
“You’ll get them.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
I looked at him.
“Where?”
“My cabin.”
I almost laughed.
“Why?”
“Because if someone has already broken into your garage, this place isn’t safe.”
I wanted to argue.
But he was right.
That irritated me even more.
We climbed out of the basement.
Before leaving, I looked back.
Something about the room bothered me.
I couldn’t explain it.
Then I noticed the wall.
One photograph was missing.
There was a clean rectangle where it had once hung.
I pointed.
“Someone took that.”
Caelan followed my gaze.
“What was there?”
“I don’t know.”
I stepped closer.
A tiny nail remained in the wall.
Beneath it was a scrap of paper.
I pulled it free.
Three words were written on it.
ASK THE BIKER.
I turned toward Caelan.
“What does that mean?”
His expression hardened.
“I don’t know.”
I folded the paper.
“You’re becoming predictable.”
“Vespera.”
“I’m joking.”
He stared at me.
Then, unexpectedly, he smiled.
It was small.
Barely there.
But real.
And my heart did something stupid.
I looked away before he could notice.
Outside, evening had settled over Ravenridge.
Caelan opened the passenger door of his truck.
I hesitated.
“I’m not staying at your cabin forever.”
“I know.”
“And I’m not becoming part of your club.”
“I know.”
“And you don’t get to make decisions for me.”
“I know.”
I looked at him.
“You agree too easily.”
“I’ve learned you’re difficult.”
“I’m not difficult.”
“You’re impossible.”
I climbed into the truck.
“Better.”
He shut the door.
As he walked around the vehicle, I looked through the window toward the garage.
For just a second, I thought I saw someone standing across the road.
A woman.
Dark hair.
Watching me.
I blinked.
She was gone.
My heart began pounding.
“Caelan.”
He got into the driver’s seat.
“What?”
I pointed toward the road.
“There was someone there.”
He looked.
Nothing.
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
“Draven.”
A pause.
His face slowly changed.
“What did you say?”
I watched him.
He listened for several seconds.
Then he looked at me.
“It’s Rook.”
“What happened?”
Caelan ended the call.
His eyes were darker than I’d ever seen them.
“Someone left a message at the clubhouse.”
“What message?”
He stared at me.
“They know about Lyra.”
My pulse jumped.
“What did they say?”
Caelan’s voice was quiet.
“They said the girl you thought was dead has been looking for you.”
I felt the blood drain from my face.
Then his phone received another message.
He looked at the screen.
His expression froze.
“What’s wrong?”
He slowly turned the phone toward me.
A photograph filled the screen.
The same woman from the basement.
Lyra.
But this time she wasn’t standing alone.
She was beside a man whose face had been partially hidden in shadow.
Across the bottom of the photograph was a message:
TELL VESPERA I’M SORRY.
Then another line appeared beneath it.
CAELAN KNOWS WHY I DISAPPEARED.
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