The line went dead.
Rebecca kept the receiver against her ear, waiting for the man to speak again.
Nothing came, she slowly put it down.
The house was silent. She glanced at the old newspaper on the kitchen table.
LOCAL BUILDING DESTROYED IN LATE-NIGHT FIRE.
Her eyes returned to the names.
Emily Carter.
Daniel Hayes.
Mark Wilson.
And somewhere in that story was her name.
Rebecca folded the newspaper and slipped it inside her coat, she knew what she had to do.
The basement....the message on the phone booth hadn't been random.
CHECK THE BASEMENT.
But whose basement? Rebecca already knew. The building in the photograph.
She grabbed her coat, picked up the picture, and left the house.
The sun was beginning to rise.
In the early morning light, the streets seemed less frightening, almost normal.
Rebecca felt anything but normal, she was walking toward something she had seen before, something her mind had tried to bury.
An hour later, she stood before the old building or what remained of it.
The fire had destroyed most of the upper floors years ago. Smoke-blackened walls rose from the ruins, while weeds pushed through cracks in the ground.
Rebecca compared it with the photograph, same building, same window ,same place.
She walked around the side and found a metal door half-hidden by weeds.
A small padlock hung from it, she glanced around, fortunately nobody was there.
From her coat pocket, she pulled a small piece of metal. She had no idea whether it would work.
It did, the lock clicked open.
Rebecca stared at it.
"Okay…"
She pulled the door open, A cold, damp smell drifted out.
Old wood, something else.
Something she couldn't name.
She switched on her flashlight.
Stairs descended into darkness.
Rebecca took the first step, then another.
The door swung shut behind her.
She paused, briefly considering the way back. Then she remembered the photograph and continued downward.
At the bottom, a narrow hallway stretched ahead. Old pipes ran along the ceiling, and water dripped somewhere beyond the reach of her flashlight.
She passed a broken chair, an old table, and several empty boxes.
Then she saw a door marked with a number.
417.
Rebecca stopped breathing, the same number appeared in the photograph.
She tried the handle, but it was locked tight.
After searching her pockets, she found nothing that could open it. Then she noticed something protruding from beneath the door.
A small envelope, Rebecca crouched and pulled it toward her.
Her name was written across the front.
REBECCA.
She stared at it before opening it, inside was another photograph.
Rebecca drew it out.
It showed another moment from September 11, but this picture was different.
Only three people stood in it.
Emily.
Mark.
And the mysterious fourth man.
Daniel was absent.
Rebecca turned the photograph over.
A sentence had been written on the back.
Daniel wasn't supposed to be there.
Her stomach tightened.
"What does that mean?" A noise came from behind the door.
Rebecca froze, something or someone moved inside.
She stepped back.
"Who's there?"
The was silence.....then came three knocks.
Rebecca stared at the door.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Her breathing grew shallow.....She reached for the handle.
The door opened by itself, no one stood inside.
Rebecca raised her flashlight.
The room was small, containing a desk, a chair, a metal cabinet, and a cassette player.
She entered cautiously, the machine was old, and a tape was already loaded inside.
Only four words appeared on its label.
SEPTEMBER 11 — REBECCA
Her hands went cold, She pressed play....static filled the room.
Then a woman's voice emerged.
Emily.
Rebecca covered her mouth...
"Rebecca, if you're hearing this…"
The recording crackled.
"…then something went wrong."
Rebecca stared at the machine.
Emily continued.
"You told me you didn't want to remember."
Tears filled Rebecca's eyes.
"You said if anything happened, I should never tell you what you saw."
The tape hissed, Rebecca whispered:
"What did I see?"
Emily's voice continued.
"But I don't think you were telling the truth."
Rebecca froze, the recording stopped, then resumed.
Emily sounded frightened.
"Rebecca, listen to me. The man you're looking for…"
A loud bang interrupted her....Emily screamed.
The tape continued for several seconds before her voice returned.
"He isn't the one you should be afraid of."
Rebecca backed away from the cassette player.
The tape clicked off, silence filled the room.
Then she noticed writing on the wall behind the desk.
Four names.
Emily.
Mark.
Daniel.
Rebecca.
Daniel's name had been crossed out.
Rebecca stepped closer," whoever the fourth man was , really wanted them dead, he was obsessed" Rebecca murmured.
Beneath the names, another sentence had been written.
ONE OF THEM LIED.
Her eyes moved from one name to the next.
Emily.
Mark.
Daniel.
Herself.
She shook her head slowly.
"No…"
Footsteps sounded in the hallway.
Rebecca switched off the flashlight and stood motionless, the steps drew nearer.
One, then another, they stopped outside the room.
She held her breath, tahe door began to move someone was opening it.
Rebecca slipped behind the door and gripped the cassette tape.
A man entered, his face was hidden in the darkness, but Rebecca recognized his voice.
"Rebecca."
She froze.
It was the same voice from the phone, the same voice from the photograph.
The man stepped toward her.
"You really shouldn't have come back."
Rebecca tightened her grip on the cassette.
Then she asked the question that had waited inside her for years.
"Who are you?"
The man stood in the darkness, this time, he answered.
"My name is Daniel."