Chapter 7 - Unlocking the Attic
Two days after Marin moved into Andrew’s house on the outskirts of Bend, they spent Saturday afternoon unpacking her few personal belongings.
Most of her old clothes and toys had been left behind in Tessa’s house, now sealed off as a crime scene by the police. But Andrew had managed to retrieve a single small cardboard box of items that belonged to her father, David, which had been stored in a forgotten corner of the attic.
They sat together on the wooden floor of Marin’s new, sunlit bedroom.
Marin pulled out an old baseball glove, a silver pocket watch that had stopped ticking long ago, and a stack of old family photographs.
She paused when she pulled out a small, leather-bound photo album that looked entirely different from Tessa’s malicious scrapbook. This one was filled with pictures of David holding a baby Marin, laughing in front of a mountain cabin, and working in a woodworking shop.
“Do you miss him?” Marin asked quietly, tracing her finger over a picture of her father.
Andrew sat down beside her, pulling her close against his side.
“Every day, kiddo,” Andrew said honestly. “Your dad was a good man. We used to build things together when we were teenagers. He taught me how to frame a roof and how to fix a broken engine.”
“Do you think he’s ever coming back?”
Andrew looked down at the little girl who had survived a nightmare no child should ever witness. He knew the police were still searching for answers, and the odds of finding David alive after three years were heartbreakingly slim. But looking into Marin’s eyes, he knew what mattered most.
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“I don't know,” Andrew said softly. “ sungai may wander, but family always stays where they belong. And right here, with you and me? We’re going to be just fine.”
Marin leaned her head against his shoulder, her good hand resting over his calloused palm.
