The Truth Buried Deep Inside My Father’s Empty New Jersey Coffin
“An old family plot on the northern edge of the woods,” I said.
My chest tightened as the memory came back.
“My grandfather’s headstone,” I said. “It’s a large stone monument, but the casket underneath is empty.”
“Just like your father’s coffin in New Jersey,” Mara said.
“Yes,” I said. “He must have hidden the physical files there before he went into hiding.”
I looked up at Mara, my breath shallow in the cold room.
“He knew they would come for him,” I said. “He set this path for me years ago.”
Mara looked away, her face shadowed by the dim light of the lamp.
She ran a hand through her wet hair and let out a quiet sigh.
“He didn’t just set a path, Natalie,” she said.
“What do you mean?” I asked, watching her face.
“Your father and your mother,” Mara said, her voice dropping. “They didn’t just leave clues for you.”
“They planned this,” she said.
I frowned, my hand still resting on the notebook. “Planned what?”
“Your entire life,” Mara said, looking directly into my eyes.