A sense of unease washed over me as the taxi pulled up outside my old house. Going inside my father's office felt like I was invading his private space. Even with him gone, I still felt apprehensive about disturbing his privacy.

The shadows from the trees along our street gave the air a slight chill, as I climbed out the back seat of the taxi. A cool breeze blew along behind me as I stepped forward towards our front door. The gentle gust of wind rustled the remnants of police tape that had been covering the doorway.

I pulled away the last few scraps of police tape from the door, before using my key to unlock it. As the door swung open it revealed a mixture of sadness and familiarity from inside my chest.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped over the pile of letters that had collected on the floor in the hallway. I pushed the door shut behind me and looked around the previously warm and welcoming entrance hall. Noticing the light blinking on the answerphone, I pressed the play button before bending down to pick up all the letters from the floor.

The first answerphone message was from my school asking if I was okay. I hadn't been back there since the day my parents died. But I also hadn't remembered to phone the school to tell them what had happened. I would have to remember to call them on Monday.

The second message was again from the school wanting to know where I was. I quickly pressed the delete button to move on to the next message. Again it was another message from the school. They were persistent. I deleted it.

The next message was an odd one. It was a foreign language that I couldn't understand. I thought I recognised it as Spanish, from the last holiday we had taken to Barcelona a few years earlier, though I couldn't understand what the guy was actually saying as I didn't speak any Spanish. But whoever this guy was, he sounded angry about something. I wondered if it was one of the builders that Peter had mentioned were working on my father's apartments. Either way, it wasn't something I would be able to deal with, so I hit delete.

The last message was again from the school demanding that my parents contact them. No chance of that, I thought to myself as I hit the delete button for the final time.

When the answerphone finally fell silent, I turned to walk slowly up the stairs. My father's office was on the third floor, at the back of the house. It had a large window that overlooked the small garden at the back of our house.

I was about to knock on the door, before I stopped myself. I had forgotten for a moment that there was no one to ask permission from. It had been such an ingrained habit, that I had almost acted automatically.

Pushing open the door, I walked into the office. It was just how I remembered, apart from the empty chair behind the desk. I had never dared to come in here alone before. My father had always been watching me from behind his desk on the other occasions when I had come inside.

Dismissing the feeling of sentimentality, I walked over to the painting on the wall opposite the desk. Though when I looked closer, I realised it wasn't a real painting, it looked more like a poster that had been mounted in a nice picture frame. It was a nice looking picture though, with a bridge going over some water with flowers floating in it. I could see why my father had liked it so much.

I had been told there was a safe hidden behind the picture frame, so I tried to take it off the wall. When I did, I discovered that the frame was attached to the wall with a hinge. As I pulled on it, it swung open stiffly like the door on an old cupboard.

As the frame swung open, it revealed a small metal safe hidden in a recess in the wall. There was a large metal handle on the front, and an electronic keypad.

Peter had told me that the combination for the safe was my date of birth, so I typed that into the keypad. When I tapped the final number, there was a beep followed by a loud clunk. I pulled down the handle, and the safe door swung open before me.

Inside the safe I could see various items. There was a small box with some of my mum's jewellery. There was another slightly larger box with three watches that belonged to my father. I pulled one out, a Blancpain diver's watch that had been my dad's favourite. I gave it a shake, and it started ticking in my hand. I then tried to put it on, but the metal bracelet was far too big for my small wrists, so I placed it back in the safe.

Getting back on track, there were a bunch of folders full of papers. And on top of them was one of those removable hard drives for the computer, along with some SD cards. To the side was a pile of brown envelopes that hadn't been sealed.

I picked up one of the envelopes, to see what was inside, and found it was surprisingly heavy. I looked inside to see there were some keys, and various pieces of paper. They seemed to be keys to an apartment, which is what I was searching for, so I grabbed the rest of the envelopes and took them over to the desk.

When I tipped out the first envelope, I saw the keys tumble out first, followed by some notes, receipts and invoices. I laid the empty envelope down on the desk, but when I did, I realised there was an address written on the back of it. The paperwork inside seemed to match for an address in Brownsville.

It was not the one I was looking for, but useful information all the same. I put everything back safely in the envelope, then checked the other envelopes. Now I knew they had the addresses written on them, I quickly found the one for the Prospect Heights apartment that Peter had mentioned.

Now I had the keys, and the complete address, I was halfway to moving into my new home. I just had to pack up some things and I would be ready to leave. Well, maybe not today. Perhaps if I waited until Monday afternoon. That would give me more time to get my stuff together. I mean, I didn't need to rush that much.

I shoved the envelope I needed into my backpack, then carried the others back to the safe. I didn't need them now, but they might come in useful in the future. I didn't know what was going to happen with my plans against the Mafia, so it was good to have back up options.

Once the safe was locked again, and hidden behind the painting, I left my father's office. I sighed as I closed the door behind me. It felt almost like I had lost another part of my parents. That room had been so important to my father while he was alive, but now it was just an empty room.

I walked down one flight of stairs to the second floor of the house, to where my bedroom was located. I pushed open the door, but did not go in. I just stood in the doorway and looked inside. My room looked so immature. It was decorated like the room of a little child. It didn't feel right any more, like it had before. I felt so much older than I had just a few months earlier. When I got in my new apartment, I was going to have to decorate it differently.