There was silence.
A long silence.
Then he said:
"Don't go upstairs."
My stomach dropped.
"What?"
"Just leave the house."
"Daniel, what is going on?"
"I'll explain when I get there."
"No. You're going to explain now."
He didn't.
He hung up.
That was when I realized something.
My brother knew.
Whatever was behind that door, he knew about it.
## The Old Box
I went into my father's study.
He had died eleven years earlier, and we had barely changed anything in the room since his funeral.
His books were still on the shelves.
His old desk still sat beside the window.
And inside the bottom drawer was a wooden box I had never been allowed to open.
I remembered my father telling me once:
"Some things are better left alone."
At the time, I thought he was talking about family arguments.
Now I wasn't so sure.
I opened the drawer.
