Documents were spread across a wooden table.
And on the concrete floor beside Daniel rested a black case.
The kind used to carry something valuable.
Or dangerous.
He slowly lifted the lid.
Even from the top of the stairs, I could see metal glinting beneath the light.
Not tools.
Something heavier.
Something built with purpose.
My breath caught.
Daniel reached into the case and pulled out an object wrapped in cloth.
When he unrolled it, the shape underneath was unmistakable.
A g_n.
I had never seen my brother hold anything like that before.
Our father had always hated w3ap0ns.
After he d!3d in a car accident years ago, Mom made Daniel promise never to keep anything like that in the house.
Yet here it was.
Hidden beneath our home.
Daniel examined the g_n with calm precision, checking each part as if he had done it countless times before.
The quiet focus on his face frightened me more than the object itself.
Because it meant this was not something new.
He had been doing this for a long time.
Suddenly the missing pieces began to fit together.
The hours he was gone.
The heavy sleep.
Daniel had been making sure I never saw what happened during the night.
A floorboard beneath my foot shifted slightly.
The sound was small, but in the silence of the basement it might as well have been thunder.
Daniel’s head lifted.
He slowly turned toward the staircase.
For one terrible second our eyes met.
Neither of us spoke.
I expected anger.
Or panic.
But what I saw instead was something far more complicated.
Fear.
“Lily,” he said quietly.
My name echoed against the concrete walls.
I froze at the top of the stairs, unable to decide whether to run or step forward.
“You weren’t supposed to see this,” he added.
The words felt heavier than an accusation.
More like regret.
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