The attic smelled of dust, cedar, and cold air.
Emma climbed the narrow stairs first.
Daniel followed with a flashlight.
The wooden floor creaked beneath them.
She moved toward a stack of storage containers near the far wall.
"I haven't opened this in years."
"Why did your father give it to you?"
"After my grandmother died."
Daniel watched her lift the lid.
Inside were photographs.
Letters.
A small brass watch.
And a folded newspaper clipping.
Nothing seemed unusual.
Emma picked up the clipping.
Her hands began to shake.
"What?"
She turned it toward Daniel.
The article was forty years old.
A local child had disappeared during winter.
A nine-year-old girl named Anna Miller.
Daniel looked at the photograph.
The girl's face resembled Mrs. Miller.
"That's her."
Emma nodded.
"She was my father's neighbor."
Daniel read the article.
Anna had disappeared from her backyard during a snowstorm.
She was found several hours later hanging from a low tree branch by a blanket.
Daniel looked at Emma.
"You're kidding."
"I didn't know."
The article said Anna had survived but remembered almost nothing about what happened.
The case was never solved.
Daniel sat on an old trunk.
"This is why someone mentioned the box."
Emma searched deeper.
A letter was tucked beneath the photographs.
Her father's handwriting appeared on the envelope.
For Emma. Open only if someone asks about Anna.
She stared.
"Why would he write this?"
"Open it."
She did.
The letter explained that Emma's father had suspected Anna's disappearance was not an accident.
He believed someone had taken her outside deliberately.
But Anna had refused to speak about the person.
The only clue had been a black thread found on the blanket.
Daniel looked at the thread he had collected from Lily's blanket.
The same type.
Emma's face went pale.
"No."
Daniel read the next paragraph.
Her father had investigated quietly.
He discovered that another child had disappeared in the same neighborhood years earlier.
Different family.
Same winter.
Same kind of blanket.
Same tree.
Emma sat down.
"Someone has done this before."
Daniel looked at her.
"Maybe."
"No."
She pointed to the letter.
"Look."
A sentence was underlined.
If it happens again, don't trust the person who arrives first.
Daniel frowned.
"Who does that mean?"
"I don't know."
A noise came from downstairs.
They froze.
Someone had entered the house.
Daniel switched off the flashlight.
They listened.
Footsteps moved across the living room.
Emma whispered, "Lily is at the clinic."
"I know."
"Who is downstairs?"
Daniel motioned for silence.
The footsteps stopped.
Then the back door opened.
A man stepped outside.
Daniel crept toward the attic window.
He saw a dark coat.
Black hat.
Tall.
The same figure from the camera.
Daniel moved toward the stairs.
Emma grabbed his arm.
"Don't."
"He could leave."
"Call the police."
Daniel reached for his phone.
The man outside looked up.
Straight at the attic window.
Daniel froze.
The stranger raised one hand.
Then he pointed toward the tree.
Daniel's phone rang.
The sound echoed through the attic.
The stranger ran.
Daniel rushed downstairs.
By the time he reached the back door, the yard was empty.
Snow covered the footprints.
But something had been left on the patio.
A small wooden box.
Daniel approached it carefully.
Emma stood behind him.
"Don't touch it."
They waited for Officer Harris.
She arrived fifteen minutes later.
The box was opened outside.
Inside was a child's red mitten.
A photograph.
And a note.
The photograph showed Anna Miller standing beside the old tree.
The note contained only four words.
She remembered everything.
Emma stared.
"Who is she?"
Officer Harris answered, "Mrs. Miller."
They drove to Mrs. Miller's house.
She was sitting by the window.
When she saw the photograph, she began crying.
"I thought it was gone."
"What?" Daniel asked.
"The memory."
"What happened that night?"
Mrs. Miller looked at him.
"I was nine."
Her voice was quiet.
"A man came into our yard."
"Did you know him?"
"No."
"What did he want?"
"He said he had found my puppy."
"You didn't have a puppy."
"I know that now."
Daniel listened.
"He gave me the red mitten."
Mrs. Miller pointed to the photograph.
"Then he told me to follow him."
"Why?"
"He said my mother had sent him."
Daniel felt sick.
"Did you go?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
"To the tree."
Mrs. Miller closed her eyes.
"He wrapped the blanket around me."
Emma's hand went to her mouth.
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"Did he hurt you?"
"No."
"Then why?"
Mrs. Miller opened her eyes.
"He wanted me to remember something."
"What?"
She looked toward Emma.
"Your father."
Emma stared.
"My father?"
"He was watching."
"Why?"
Mrs. Miller shook her head.
"He knew the man."
Daniel asked, "Who was he?"
"I never saw his face."
"What happened next?"
"I remember falling asleep."
"Then?"
"When I woke up, I was hanging from the tree."
The same as Lily.
Emma felt cold.
"What did the man say?"
Mrs. Miller's face changed.
"He said, 'Now they'll believe you.'"
Silence filled the room.
Daniel understood.
The hanging was not meant to kill.
It was meant to create a story.
A scene.
Something impossible.
Something that would make people question the child's memory.
"Why would anyone do that?" Emma asked.
Mrs. Miller looked at her.
"Because I saw something."
"What?"
"Your father meeting someone."
Emma sat down.
"Who?"
"I don't know."
"Where?"
"Near the old shed."
Mrs. Miller reached for another photograph.
It showed two men standing beside a car.
One was Emma's father.
The other was the stranger.
Emma stared at the photograph.
"I've never seen him."
Mrs. Miller shook her head.
"Neither had I."
Daniel pointed.
"Wait."
There was something in the stranger's hand.
A bowl.
The same black metal bowl found outside Lily's house.
Daniel felt his pulse quicken.
"Why the bowl?"
Mrs. Miller whispered, "The fox."
"What fox?"
"He used it to lure the children."
Emma understood.
The food outside their house.
The tracks.
The bowl.
It had been part of the method for years.
But Mrs. Miller had one more memory.
"The man wasn't alone."
Daniel looked at her.
"Who was with him?"
She stared at Emma.
"Your father's friend."
Emma felt her breath stop.
"My father's friend?"
"Yes."
"What was his name?"
Mrs. Miller hesitated.
Then she whispered it.
"Thomas Reed."
Emma knew the name.
Her father had mentioned him many times.
Thomas had been a family friend.
He had attended birthdays.
He had visited holidays.
And he had died only five years earlier.
Daniel looked at Emma.
"Could he have been involved?"
"I don't know."
Officer Harris stood.
"Then we need to find out."
Before they left, Mrs. Miller took Emma's hand.
"There's something else."
"What?"
"Your father came to see me the day after I was found."
Emma waited.
"He told me never to talk about the man."
"Why?"
"He said the man would come back."
Emma looked toward the window.
Snow continued falling.
"What happened after that?"
Mrs. Miller's voice dropped.
"Nothing."
"Until today."
She nodded.
"Until Lily."
Click Here to continue read next: PART4: The Family Followed the Old Trail Through the Snow and Found the One Place Where Lily’s Night and Anna’s Disappearance Finally Became the Same Story
When Daniel Looked Outside and Saw His Daughter Hanging From the Tree, He Realized the Winter Morning Had Gone Terribly Wrong
Part 3 of 8
