He had lost the protection of secrecy.
But he was still telling dangerous people that I possessed something they wanted.
“Daniel,” I said, “have you reported this to the authorities?”
“Not yet. I wanted you to know first.”
“You need to report it now. Don’t contact me again unless it’s through the investigators.”
I ended the call and immediately contacted Margaret.
She took the information seriously and passed it through the appropriate channels.
That night, I checked the locks twice.
I slept with my phone beside me.
And for the first time in my life, I understood what it meant to be afraid inside a house you owned.
Chapter 8: The Envelope Beneath the Door
Three days later, I found an envelope outside my front door.
It was plain white.
No stamp.
No return address.
My name was written across the front in black ink.
I did not open it.
I photographed it where it lay, contacted the authorities, and followed their instructions.
