“Finnley, you went to jail for stealing from your own father’s business. Do you really think he wanted you showing up and ruining his funeral?”
“I didn’t steal anything from him.”
“That’s what you kept saying at the trial, but nobody believed you.”
I tried to look past her into the hallway. All our old family photos were gone. My mom’s picture wasn’t there, and my dad’s old hat was missing too. The house just had expensive new furniture and smelled like cheap air freshener.
“Let me in,” I pleaded. “I just want to see his room.”
“His room is gone, Finnley. I remodeled the whole thing.”
Right then, her son Carter came walking down the stairs. My stepbrother, the guy who spent years drowning in gambling debts, smiled like he had been waiting for this day forever.
“Well, look who it is,” Carter sneered. “The convict came back looking for his money.”
I tried to take a step forward, but Reagan immediately blocked the door.
“If you ever step foot on this property again, I’m calling the police,” she warned. “With your record, you don’t want to mess around.”
The door slammed shut in my face with a sharp click.
I didn’t yell or scream. I just turned around and walked all the way to Pinecrest Cemetery. My dad always told me he wanted to be buried right next to my mom, so I needed to go see his name on the headstone.
An old gardener stopped me near some big trees.
“Who are you looking for, young man?” he asked.
“Camden Dennis,” I replied. “His wife told me he’s buried here.”
The old man looked at me with sad eyes.
“You’re Finnley, aren’t you?”
My chest suddenly went cold.
“How do you know my name?”
The gardener looked over his shoulder toward the main gate and lowered his voice.
“Because your dad asked me to give you this if you ever came looking for him.”
He pulled out a yellow envelope from his jacket. Inside, there was a letter and a small key that said: STORAGE UNIT 108.
“But where is my dad buried?” I asked.
The gardener swallowed hard.
“Not here, son. And if you want to know the real story, don’t go back to that woman yet.”
I opened the letter right there. The very first line read: Son, if you are reading this, it means Reagan has already started lying to you.
That was the moment I realized my dad’s death wasn’t the end of it. It was actually the start of something much worse.
