Chapter 4A Grave Beneath The Floorboards

"Was it just them?"

"And the son. The three of them together."

I clenched my fists. "How long were they here?"

"Not long. Maybe an hour. They carried a large trunk up. When they came back down, they were empty-handed."

A trunk.

Carried up, but never brought back down.

"What kind of trunk? Did you see it?"

The old lady shook the water off her greens.

"Black. Plastic, I think. Big. The son carried it up by himself. Looked heavy."

"And no one’s been back since?"

"No. Just that once."

She went back to her vegetables, adding casually, "Moving things in the middle of the night... I thought it was strange. Why not do it in the light of day?"

I couldn't answer.

A draft blew out of the stairwell, carrying the faint tail-end of that bleach smell.

I slowly stood up and looked up at the grey, dusty window of the fourth floor.

Every nerve in my body was screaming.

I called 911.

My voice was shaking so badly the operator had to ask me to repeat the address twice.

"I think my friend has been hurt. Building 302, Apt 401. There’s a powerful smell of chemicals coming from inside."

The operator asked for my name. I gave it.

They asked for my friend's name.

I opened my mouth, but the name "Bella" got stuck in my throat. When it finally came out, it was a sob.

The police said they’d be there in five minutes.

I waited by the entrance.

Five minutes.

Every second felt like a needle pricking my skin.

I leaned against the brick wall, staring up at the fourth floor.

My mind was full of Bella.

The way she’d move into my house when we were kids just because she was bored. The way she’d stood up to the bullies in middle school, winking at me while her mom got lectured by the principal.

The night we graduated college, she’d been so drunk, clutching my hand and saying:

"Jo, I’m the luckiest person in the world because I have you. And because my parents are so good to me. I’m just... I’m so happy."

She’d had a red nose and teary eyes, smiling like a fool.

The tears finally spilled over my cheeks.

Bella, the people you loved—the ones you said were so "good" to you—what did they do?

Screaming sirens cut through the air.

Two cruisers pulled up, and five or six officers jumped out.

The lead was a middle-aged detective—Detective Cooper. He asked me a few quick questions and then led his team up the stairs.

I followed, but was stopped at the fourth-floor landing.

"Stay back, Miss. Don't come any closer."

I heard the sound of a door being breached. The heavy thud of wood.

Then, a young officer stumbled out of the apartment, leaning against the hallway wall, retching.

Detective Cooper’s voice came from inside, low and grim.

"Call the ME."

My legs gave out.

I tried to rush in, but an officer caught me.

"You can't go in there!"

"Let me see her! Just let me see her!"

I fought with everything I had. I was screaming, hysterical.

The officer couldn't hold me back, and finally, Detective Cooper stepped out. He looked at me for a long beat.

"Are you sure?"

"She’s my best friend!"

He stepped aside.

I walked in.

In the small storage room, a black plastic trunk had been moved aside by the police.

In the corner behind it, a floorboard had been pried up.

Underneath, in the shallow crawlspace, was a body.

I recognized the necklace around her throat.

The one I’d bought her for her birthday last year.

I recognized the fitness tracker on her wrist.

We’d bought them together on Black Friday so we could compete on daily steps.

I recognized the ring on her left ring finger.

A cheap, ten-dollar silver band we’d bought at a flea market in high school. We’d each bought one and promised to wear them forever.

I fell to my knees on the cold concrete of the storage room. I didn't feel the pain in my joints.

I didn't feel anything at all.

The rest is a blur.

The scene was cordoned off. The forensic team arrived. Bella was carried out in a black bag.

I don't know how long I sat on the curb outside.

It was dark when Detective Cooper walked over to me.

"Joanna, the forensics team found a recording on the deceased’s fitness tracker."

I looked up, my eyes burning.

"It has a voice memo feature. She managed to record something. I want you to listen to it—see if it helps us understand the context."

I followed him into the back of the police van.

He hit play.

At first, there was silence. Then, the sound of shallow, terrified breathing.

Then, Bella’s voice.

It was a whisper, calm but thin, a terrifying stillness that made me shiver.

"Jo... if you’re hearing this, it means I’m gone."

"Because I found out. I found out their secret."