My Stepfather Locked Me in a Room Because of a Loan, but When I Reached the Stranger by the Black Car During My Escape, He Suddenly Stopped Smiling

That night, when my stepfather locked my room door from the outside, I realized for the first time that I was not a guest in this house, but an item for sale.

Rain struck the windowpanes as if someone outside was trying to help me. I had wrapped the hem of the silver dress around my knees because I had shaken the door several times and the handle had scratched my palms. My mother’s pearl necklace was still around my neck, while I held in my fingers a silver button that had come off the side of the dress. A small crescent moon was engraved on its surface. My father had given me this button when I was a child and told me that even on the darkest night, it was possible to find one’s own way.

At those moments, his words seemed ridiculous to me.

“Diana, open the door!” I shouted.

I heard his calm footsteps from the corridor.

“Calm down, Emily. It is only for one evening.”

“Take me back to the guests!”

“The guests have already left. Now we are talking about your future.”

I pressed my forehead against the door. The heavy smell of cigarettes came in from outside and my stomach clenched. A few seconds later I heard a hoarse male voice.

“The girl’s resistance will not last long, Mrs. Diana.”

It was Ambrosi, our family’s creditor and my stepfather’s business partner. During the evening, his gold ring had flashed so many times in the light of the glasses that it remained in my eyes.

“Emily is a smart girl,” Diana replied. “When she understands that if she resists, the house, the company employees, and her inheritance will disappear, she will agree to us herself.”

My knees gave way.

“My inheritance?” I asked aloud.

Silence fell in the corridor.

Diana opened the door slightly, but did not remove the chain. The smile with which she convinced guests that she was my guardian angel was no longer on her face.

“Your father left you nothing, Emily. Everything went into debts.”

“Father left a will. I remember.”

“You remember only what you heard as a child.”

“And now you want me to marry Ambrosi so I can pay your debts?”

Diana’s lips froze.

“Do not use such words. You are helping the family.”

“Not the family. You.”

She shut the door so forcefully that the pearls scratched my neck.

I went to the window. It was the third floor, but the room bordered a small window of the old bathroom. Outside I could see the back garden, and below, wet earth and tall bushes. I braced my knee against the window frame and clenched my teeth.

My left elbow touched the glass.

The glass shattered.

Pain darkened my vision, but I squeezed through the window. The dress tore on an iron hook, the silver button rolled across the floor, and I fell face-first into the muddy flowerbed.

I ran barefoot.

I heard shouting behind me.

“Find her!” Diana shouted. “She ran toward the old road!”

Rain cut into my face. Stones pierced my soles, but I did not dare look back. I clutched the button in my hand, as if the little silver crescent were the only thing that still belonged to me from my father.

The old road began at the forest. That was where I saw headlights.

A black car burst out of the bend and braked a few steps away. I jumped into the middle of the road and raised both hands.

“Please, stop! Help me!”

The driver barely controlled the wheel. The door opened from inside.

“Get in,” the stranger sitting in the back seat told me.

His voice was low, but sounded like an order.

I rushed inside and fell onto the warm leather seat. The stranger draped his dark coat over my shoulders. He wore an old watch on his wrist, and raindrops trembled on its glass.

“Who is chasing you?” he asked.

“Diana… my stepmother. She wanted to sell me to Ambrosi.”

His face hardened in one instant.

“Your name?”

“Emily.”

Behind us, between the trees, the headlights of a black SUV appeared.

“It is them,” I whispered.

The stranger looked at the driver.

“Do not take the main road.”

Then he turned toward me and stopped his gaze on the button enclosed in my hand.

“Where did you find this?”

“It was mine. My father gave it to me.”

The stranger inhaled deeply. For the first time I saw the calm expression disappear from his face.

“Emily, did your father ever tell you about the dark green folder hidden in the paternal archive?”

I could not find a word.

He reached for the leather bag beside the seat and slowly opened the clasp. Outside, the SUV door slammed. Someone was approaching our car, while the stranger’s fingers touched the edge of the folder…

The stranger’s fingers touched the edge of the folder, but at that very moment the driver started the car sharply and I hit the door. The silver button slipped from my hand under the coat and fell to the floor.

“Duck!” the stranger shouted.

A bullet-like sound rang out beside the window. The glass did not break, but a white crack crept beside my ear. I crouched and covered my head with my hands.

“This is no longer just an attempt to bring us back,” I said, barely catching my breath.

“I know,” he replied.

“Who are you?”

“Luka Meladze.”

“Do you know Diana?”

“Not Diana. I knew your father.”

He placed the bag on his knees. A small scratch was visible on the leather surface, as if it had once been opened with a knife.

“My father died six years ago.”

“I know.”

“Then why were you looking for me now?”

Luka looked out the window for several seconds. The car moved along a narrow forest road, its tires throwing mud.

“Because your father’s last letter was to be handed to me only when you found yourself in danger.”

My heart struck me as if I had begun running again.

“Did he know Diana would do this?”

“He knew Diana would lose everything if you became an adult and took over the trust fund entrusted to your father.”

“What fund?”

Luka opened the bag, but did not take the folder out completely.

“We must first get to a safe place.”

This answer frightened me more than it reassured me.

There was a small hotel on the outskirts of the city. It was four in the morning when the car stopped in the back yard. Rain was still falling, while the red neon sign dissolved in the puddles. Luka opened the entrance door with his key and took me to the second floor.

An old radiator rumbled in the room. The clock hanging above it struck four once. Luka brought out a first-aid kit and knelt at my feet.

“It hurts,” I told him.

“I know. But we have to clean the wound.”

“Are you a doctor?”

“No. I once worked in the investigative service.”

He carefully removed a piece of glass. His fingers did not tremble, while I bit my lip so hard that I tasted blood.

“Did you work with my father too?”

“On the last case.”

“What case?”

Luka wrapped the bandage and looked into my eyes.

“Your father’s death.”

The room seemed to shrink.

“You mean the accident?”

“Officially, it was an accident.”

“And in reality?”

He did not answer. He examined the dark green folder lying on the table with his fingers. Under the dust on its cover, I read my father’s initials.

“This folder was hidden in your father’s study,” he said. “Diana could not find it because your father had installed a lock on the room’s panel that could be opened only by a family member’s date of birth.”

“My date of birth?”

“No. Another date.”

“Whose?”

Luka looked at the phone. More than ten missed calls were visible on the screen. One of the numbers belonged to Diana.

The phone rang again.

Luka turned on the speaker.

“Emily!” Diana’s voice filled the room. “If you do not return in five minutes, I will tell the police that Luka Meladze kidnapped you. I have every witness against you.”

I laughed, although tears came from my eyes.

“She can turn everything around.”

“She can,” Luka agreed. “But only until we make them listen to the recording.”

“What recording?”

He took a small black device from the bag. One red light blinked on it.

“Diana said everything this evening. Not to you. To Ambrosi.”

I gripped the chair.

“You were in our house?”

“Not invited. Hidden.”

“Why?”

“Because of your father’s request, which I failed to fulfill six years ago.”

He turned on the recording. First came the sound of glasses, then Diana’s laughter.

“When Emily signs, the company will be completely in our hands.”

The recording stopped.

I stood up.

“Is there more?”

“There is. But before I let you hear it to the end, you must know that Diana’s crime is not the only one.”

“Is Ambrosi involved too?”

Luka opened the folder’s clasp. Inside lay a yellowed sheet and a small disc. My name was written on the disc’s surface.

“Your father left this for you. But after listening to the recording, you will have no way back.”

Footsteps sounded in the corridor.

Luka raised his head.

“They found the room.”

The door handle moved slowly, while Luka put the disc in my hand and whispered:

“If it opens now, you must decide whom you trust…”

The door handle moved slowly, but Luka turned off the room light and pointed toward the window. Someone knocked once in the corridor.

“Ma’am, open the door,” a man’s voice said.

Luka put a finger to his lips. Only the radiator’s crackling and my rapid breathing could be heard in the room. After several seconds, the footsteps moved away.

“Is there another exit?” I whispered.

“The balcony.”

“I cannot stand.”

“Then you will lean on me.”

We passed through the glass door and went out onto a narrow iron balcony. The railing was slippery from the rain. Luka put an arm around my waist and moved me down onto the flat roof of the neighboring house. My right foot still burned, but this time I was more afraid that the disc would fall than of the pain.

Half an hour later we found ourselves in Luka’s small office. It was six in the morning. Gray light seeped through the windows, and an old tape player stood on the desk. Its buttons were worn, as if someone had pressed one of them on the same recording for years.

“Do we have to listen to all this here?” I asked.

“Yes. There is only one original.”

Luka opened the dark green folder. The first sheet was written in my father’s handwriting. On it was written: “For Emily, when the truth becomes necessary for her protection.”

My hands began to tremble.

“Why did Father not tell me this?”

“Because you were twelve then. And because Diana already controlled every phone, account, and meeting.”

Luka turned on the recording.

Diana’s voice sounded clearly.

“Emily will sign. If she does not, Ambrosi will say that the girl attacked us herself and ran away from home.”

Ambrosi’s heavy laughter followed.

“The police believe you, Diana. The widow’s mask still suits you well.”

“I am no longer a widow when it comes to money. Your father’s shares are in Emily’s name, but the trust fund cannot be transferred until she is twenty-five. She turns twenty-five tomorrow morning.”

Silence fell in the room.

Luka stopped the recording.

“That was the main reason they hurried today.”

I sat on the chair. My father’s shares, the house, the company—everything Diana had shown me for years as “debts” had in fact been protected for me.

“Continue,” I said.

Luka turned it on again.

“What will happen if she does not sign?” Ambrosi asked.

“Then we will not receive her father’s money. Therefore the wedding must take place tonight.”

“And if she tries to run away?”

Diana’s voice was completely calm.

“The window is on the third floor. If she falls, it will be a tragedy. If she survives, we will still say that she is mentally disturbed.”

The recording ended.

Everything darkened before my eyes. I remembered her hand on my arm, the locked door, Ambrosi’s wet lips, and the words that for years I had accepted as “family care.”

“Is my father’s death connected to them too?” I asked.

Luka took out a second sheet.

“Your father discovered in the contract that Diana and Ambrosi were stealing the company’s money. That night, while returning from the meeting, his brakes failed. I could not obtain evidence.”

“But now you have it?”

“Now you have it.”

He handed me the final document. It was a certified copy of the will signed by my father, which stated that after the investigation into his death was completed, all the property would pass to me, while Diana had only the right of residence.

My eyes stopped on that one line.

“It turns out he knew everything.”

“He knew, and he hoped that one day you would defend yourself.”

At that moment the office telephone rang. Luka picked up the receiver. His face slowly grew pale.

“Who is it?” I asked.

He held the receiver out toward me.

“The police. Diana has filed an official report that you were kidnapped and that Luka Meladze is armed.”

A man’s voice sounded through the phone:

“Ma’am, if you are there, immediately confirm to us that you are free.”

I was about to answer, but heavy footsteps sounded beyond the door.

Luka looked toward the window.

“The police did not come alone.”

The black SUV stopped below. Ambrosi got out of the car, holding something white in his hand.

“This is a temporary court order,” Luka said. “Diana has already obtained the right to sign on your behalf.”

I looked at the document and immediately recognized a forged copy of my father’s signature.

Luka added quietly:

“But she does not yet know that someone has already examined this paper…”