After his wife, Kiran’s grandmother, died, a huge amount of cash disappeared from their house — about $200,000. It was the grandmother’s savings, and its disappearance occurred right after we’d been over for a visit.
Of course, Harold accused me, and by default, his own son, of stealing it. The fallout was so messy that he barred us from ever setting foot in his house, except for Kiran. That’s when Michael and I went low contact, unless it had to do with Kiran.
Now that I was in Harold’s house for the first time in years, I felt like I was breaking in.
Kiran had given me the key his father gave him while we stood at the doorstep. Now inside, I looked at it more thoroughly and said, “But this doesn’t look like a door key.”
He looked down at the key in my palm. “It’s not for a door,” and then led me to the basement.
“Dad said it opens something in the basement. Behind the wardrobe.”
My heart skipped. “What wardrobe?”
“You know how Grandpa never let you guys in? Well, he let me play down there. I think Dad knew I’d be the only one who could get inside, especially since I knew where the front door key sits.”
Kiran moved through the rooms without hesitation, leading me past the kitchen and down the narrow hall toward the basement door. I’d never been allowed to cross this threshold before. My hand trembled slightly as I turned the knob and followed him down the creaking stairs.
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