Chapter 2 - What Maddie Saw Upstairs
The air in my bedroom instantly turned cold.
I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at my twelve-year-old daughter. Maddie stood with her back pressed against the white bedroom door, her small hands clutching the hem of her oversized gray sweatshirt. Her chest rose and fell in rapid, shallow breaths, her dark eyes wide with a combination of fear and guilt.
"Maddie, sweetie, come sit down," I whispered, reaching out a hand. "What do you mean he wasn't fixing an outlet?"
Maddie didn't sit. She took three cautious steps toward me, looking toward the hallway as if she expected Brian to burst through the door at any moment.
"He didn't start in the living room, Mom," Maddie whispered, her voice trembling. "He started in his home office upstairs right after you left for work at eight in the morning."
My heart gave a heavy, sickening thud. "His office? His office is directly above the living room wall."
"I was in my room doing my online school assignment," Maddie continued, her knuckles turning white as she squeezed her hands together. "I heard heavy tapping on the floorboards in his room. It sounded like he was using a rubber mallet. Then I heard a metallic sound... like a metal detector."
"A metal detector?" I repeated, my brow furrowing in utter bewilderment. "Why would your father have a metal detector inside the house?"
"He brought a small black wand out of his duffel bag—the kind security guards use at airport checkpoints," Maddie explained, her words spilling out in a panicked rush. "I watched him through the crack in my door. He ran it along the baseboard in his office, and when it beeped, he marked the floor with blue painter's tape. Then he went downstairs with a stud finder, a measuring tape, and a flashlight."
I sat frozen, trying to process what she was telling me. Brian hadn't acted out of sudden frustration over a loose electrical socket. He had mapped out a specific coordinate between the second-floor flooring and the first-floor ceiling before he ever touched a blade to the drywall.
"Did he see you watching him?" I asked softly.
Maddie swallowed hard, a tear spilling over her lower eyelid. "He caught me standing near the top of the stairs when he was bringing the crowbar down. He came up to me, put both hands on my shoulders, and told me that if I said anything to you before he finished, it would 'ruin everything.' He said he was looking for something that belonged to our family, but his face looked... crazy, Mom. He wasn't smiling. He looked terrified."
A heavy footstep echoed from the staircase down the hall.
Maddie gasped, instantly dropping her voice to a barely audible breath. "Don't tell him I said anything, Mom. Please."
"I won't," I promised, pulling her into a tight hug. "Go to your room and lock the door, okay? I'm going to handle this."
I waited until I heard Maddie’s bedroom door click shut before I stood up. My hands were shaking, but a cold, hard anger was settling deep in my chest.
I walked out of the bedroom and descended the stairs. Brian was standing in the living room, sweeping white drywall dust into a plastic dustpan. The four-foot gaping void in our wall gaped like an open mouth, exposing exposed wooden studs, yellow fiberglass insulation, and black electrical conduits.
"Brian," I said, my voice cutting through the quiet hum of the vacuum cleaner.
He stopped, leaning on the broom handle, wiping sweat from his forehead with his forearm. "Hey, babe. Almost done clearing the big pieces. I can put up a temporary plastic sheet tonight so we don't drop dust into the rug overnight."
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"Stop lying to me," I said, stepping right up to the edge of the exposed drywall debris. "Maddie saw you with the metallic scan wand in your office this morning. She saw you mark the floorboards with blue tape."
Brian went completely motionless. The color drained from his face, leaving his skin a pale, sallow gray under the harsh overhead recessed lights.
