The Last Letter

Daniel hadn’t spoken to his father in ten years. Not since the argument—the one that started over something trivial and ended with a shattered coffee mug, a slammed door, and silence that stretched for a decade.

Then, on an ordinary Tuesday, a letter arrived.

His father’s handwriting.

Daniel’s hands shook as he tore open the envelope. Inside was a single sheet of paper, yellowed with age, the ink slightly smudged.

"Daniel,

If you’re reading this, I’m already gone.

There’s something you need to know.

Meet me at the old cabin—the one by Blackwood Lake.

Come alone.

—Dad"

The letter was dated three days ago.

The Cabin in the Woods

Daniel drove through the night, his mind racing. Why now? What could his father possibly have to say after all this time?

The cabin looked the same as he remembered—weathered wood, a rusted metal roof, the porch sagging under years of neglect. The lake behind it was still and dark, reflecting the moonlight like a sheet of polished obsidian.

The front door was unlocked.

Inside, the air was thick with dust. A single oil lamp burned on the table, its flickering light casting long shadows. And there, sitting in his old armchair, was his father.

Except something was wrong.

His father didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.

Daniel stepped closer, his pulse pounding in his ears.

His father’s skin was gray. His eyes, wide and unblinking, stared straight ahead.

He had been dead for days.

The Second Letter

A choked sound escaped Daniel’s throat. He stumbled back, knocking over a stack of books. Something fluttered to the floor—another envelope, this one unsealed.

With trembling fingers, Daniel pulled out the note inside.

"Daniel,

By now, you’ve realized the truth.

I died four days ago.

But I needed you to hear this from me, not from some stranger over the phone.

I’m sorry.

For everything.

There’s one more thing you need to do.

Look under the floorboard beneath my chair.

—Dad"

Daniel’s vision blurred. He dropped to his knees, prying up the loose board with numb fingers. Beneath it lay a small wooden box.

Inside was a key.

And a photograph of a woman Daniel didn’t recognize.

The Woman in the Picture

The woman was beautiful, with dark hair and a smile that seemed familiar somehow. On the back of the photo, written in his father’s hand:

"Eleanor. 1987."

Daniel had never heard that name before.

He searched the cabin, his movements frantic. In a drawer, he found more letters—dozens of them, all addressed to Eleanor, all unopened.

The most recent one was dated two weeks ago.

"Eleanor,

I’m running out of time.

I need to tell him the truth.

He deserves to know.

—James"

The Truth

Daniel’s breath came in short gasps. Who was Eleanor? What truth was his father hiding?

Then he saw it—a newspaper clipping tucked between the letters.

The headline made his blood run cold.

"LOCAL WOMAN DISAPPEARS WITHOUT A TRACE, 1987."

The woman in the photo. Eleanor.

And beside the article, a single sentence scribbled in his father’s handwriting:

"I didn’t mean for it to happen."

The Key

The key fit the lock on the cabin’s basement door.

Daniel hesitated, his hand on the knob. Whatever was down there, he wasn’t sure he wanted to see it.

But he had to know.

The basement was damp and cold. The beam of his flashlight cut through the darkness, revealing something propped against the far wall.

A chair.

Ropes tied to the arms.

And on the floor in front of it, a single, weather-worn suitcase.

Daniel’s stomach twisted. He knew, even before he opened it, what he would find inside.

Bones.

The Last Secret

Upstairs, the oil lamp flickered out.

Daniel didn’t scream. Didn’t run.

He just sat there in the dark, clutching the photograph of a woman he now realized was his real mother.

And for the first time in ten years, he spoke to his father.

"Why?"

The silence swallowed his words.

Somewhere outside, an owl cried. The wind rattled the trees.

And Daniel understood—this was his father’s final confession.

A secret buried for thirty years.

A truth that would now die with him.

The Choice

Daniel buried the bones at dawn.

He didn’t call the police. Didn’t tell a soul.

Instead, he took the letters, the photograph, and the key.

And he left the cabin behind, just as his father had left him all those years ago.

The Aftermath

Sometimes, Daniel thinks about going back.

Sometimes, he wonders if he made the right choice.

But then he remembers the look on his father’s face—the guilt, the regret, the silent plea for forgiveness.

And he knows some secrets are better left buried.

THE END.