Chapter 5 - Toby's Truth
We rushed back across the city to the small, second-floor apartment where Toby was staying while he finished his senior year of high school. The street was quiet, but the sight of a black SUV parked two blocks away sent a jolt of panic through my chest.
"Stay behind me," Jonah whispered as we took the narrow stairs two at a time.
I fumbled with my keys, unlocking the deadbolt and shoving the door open. "Toby? Toby!"
Toby poked his head out of the kitchenette, holding a spatula, a stack of half-burnt pancakes on a plate. At eighteen, he had our father’s wide, expressive eyes and messy brown hair. He blinked at us in surprise. "Clara? Jonah? What's going on? You look like you just saw a ghost."
"Where is Dad’s toolbox?" I asked, my breathing shallow and fast. "The green metal one with the rusted latch."
Toby’s brow furrowed. "Under my bed. Why? Did something happen to the plumbing?"
Jonah walked past Toby straight into the bedroom, pulling the heavy green box out from under the frame. He set it on the kitchen table and flipped the latch open. Pencils, worn comic strips, and old baseball cards tumbled out.
Jonah tipped the box sideways, tapping the thick wooden base. A hollow *thud* echoed in the small room.
"Double bottom," Jonah murmured. He took a pocketknife from his jacket and pried at the seam along the bottom edge. With a sharp crack, the false floor lifted, revealing a tarnished silver key attached to a brass tag numbered *Vault 414 - First National Bank of Boston*, alongside a small USB drive.
Toby stared at the key, his mouth slightly open. "Dad told me to never show that box to anyone unless things got really bad. He told me it was an insurance policy."
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"An insurance policy against who, Toby?" I asked, my voice breaking.
Toby looked down at his sneakers, guilt washing over his young face. "He told me... if anyone ever came looking for him after he died, I should call a private number written inside the cover. Clara, the night Dad died, he didn't just get hit by a random car. He was running from someone. He called me from a payphone twenty minutes before the crash and told me he had locked everything away so they couldn't hurt us."
