The house still smelled like their father: pipe smoke and cold coffee. Mara, Theo, and Diane stood in the hallway together for the first time in nine years. Nobody spoke. Then Theo bumped the old record cabinet and the back panel slid loose. Behind it sat a hidden shelf, and on it were dozens of cassette tapes, each one labeled in their father's tight handwriting.

Mara grabbed the first tape and dug an old player out of the desk drawer. "We listen now," she said. "Together. No more secrets in this house." Theo looked nervous but nodded. She pressed play, and their father's voice filled the room, tired but clear: "If you're hearing this, I'm gone. And I owe you the truth."