An Unexpected Visitor

By Monday morning, I had decided I was done thinking about Natalie.

It was a temporary decision, obviously. I wasn't delusional enough to believe a woman connected to Damien's mysterious past would simply disappear from my thoughts because I wanted her to.

But I could try.

I had work to do, chapters to write, and a life that didn't revolve around investigating my best friend's questionable history.

At least, that was the plan.

My phone rang while I was making breakfast.

Damien.

I answered without looking at the screen.

“Before you say anything, I'm not investigating your past today.”

He laughed.

“Good morning to you too.”

“I'm setting boundaries.”

“Congratulations.”

“What do you want?”

“Lunch.”

I stopped spreading butter on my toast.

“Excuse me?”

“I was asking if you'd have lunch with me.”

“That's a very dramatic way to invite someone to eat.”

“Would you prefer a formal invitation?”

“With flowers.”

“I'll consider it.”

I smiled.

“Fine. Where?”

“I'll pick you up at one.”

“Don't be late.”

“I'm never late.”

I burst out laughing.

“That's the biggest lie you've told this week.”

He ended the call while I was still laughing.

---

At exactly one fifteen, Damien arrived.

I stood outside my apartment building with my arms folded as he pulled up.

“Fifteen minutes late,” I announced when he stepped out.

“Traffic.”

“Excuses.”

He opened the passenger door.

“Get in before I change my mind.”

I climbed inside.

“You're lucky I'm hungry.”

“I'm lucky you love me.”

I turned toward him.

“Don't get carried away. I love food.”

He grinned and got behind the wheel.

Lunch was at a small restaurant near the business district. We ordered, argued over which dessert to share, and spent most of the meal discussing everything except the strange messages.

It was refreshing.

Until Damien's phone rang.

He checked the screen and frowned.

“Do you need to answer?” I asked.

“It's Marcus. I'll be quick.”

He stood and walked a few steps away.

I returned to my drink.

His conversation was brief, but I caught a few words.

“Today?”

A pause.

“No, I haven't seen her.”

Another pause.

“Then don't do anything until I get there.”

He ended the call and returned to the table.

I looked at him.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Something came up at work.”

“Do you need to go?”

He hesitated.

“Actually, yes.”

I sighed.

“Of course.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It's fine. I'll survive without your charming company.”

He smiled and reached for his wallet.

“I'll make it up to you.”

“You'd better.”

He walked me to the entrance and waited until my ride arrived.

Before I left, he touched my shoulder.

“Call me if anything happens.”

I gave him a look.

“Damien, I'm going home, not entering a war zone.”

“Just promise.”

I sighed.

“Fine. I promise.”

He smiled.

“Good.”

---

I was halfway through an episode of my favorite series when someone knocked on my door.

I checked the time.

Almost four.

Maya hadn't said she was coming over, and Damien usually called before showing up.

I walked to the door and looked through the peephole.

A woman stood outside.

She had shoulder-length dark hair, a cream coat, and a handbag hanging from one shoulder.

I opened the door cautiously.

“Hello?”

Her eyes settled on me.

“Are you Ava?”

I nodded.

“Who are you?”

She hesitated.

“My name is Natalie.”

For a second, I forgot how to breathe.

Natalie.

The woman from the photograph.

The woman whose name had been appearing in anonymous messages for days.

I tightened my grip on the door.

“What do you want?”

She glanced down the hallway before looking back at me.

“I need to speak with you.”

“About what?”

“Damien.”

Of course.

I almost laughed.

“I'm sorry, but I don't think that's a good idea.”

“Please. Just five minutes.”

I studied her face.

She didn't look threatening. If anything, she seemed nervous.

But I had learned that appearances weren't always reliable.

“How did you get my address?”

She looked uncomfortable.

“Someone gave it to me.”

“Who?”

“I'd rather not say.”

I stepped slightly into the doorway, blocking her view of the apartment.

“Then I think we're done here.”

“Ava, I know what happened between Damien and me.”

My expression changed.

She noticed.

“And I know he's probably told you a different version.”

I stared at her.

“What exactly are you suggesting?”

“I'm saying you deserve to know the truth.”

I folded my arms.

“Then tell me.”

Natalie looked down the hallway again.

“Not here.”

I almost shut the door.

“You came to my home, but you don't want to talk here?”

“I don't know who's listening.”

That was enough.

I stepped back.

“I'm not interested in mysterious conversations with strangers.”

She reached into her handbag.

I stiffened.

But instead of pulling out anything threatening, she took out a folded photograph.

She held it toward me.

“Look at this.”

I didn't take it immediately.

“What is it?”

“Something Damien should have told you.”

After a moment, I accepted it.

The photograph showed Damien standing outside a building with Natalie beside him. They looked younger, perhaps nineteen or twenty.

But that wasn't what caught my attention.

There was another man standing behind them.

His face was partially turned away from the camera, but I recognized his jacket.

It was the same one Damien had worn in the photograph from Zara's envelope.

I looked up.

“Who is that?”

Natalie swallowed.

“His name is Richard.”

“Richard who?”

“Richard Hayes.”

I looked down at the photograph again.

“Why is he important?”

She opened her mouth.

Then stopped.

Before she could answer, my phone began ringing.

Damien.

I looked at the screen, then at Natalie.

Her face had gone pale.

“Don't answer that,” she whispered.

I frowned.

“Why?”

“Because if he knows I'm here, he'll come.”

I stared at her.

“Isn't that the point? You came here to talk about him.”

“Not like this.”

My phone continued ringing.

I answered.

“Hello?”

“Where are you?”

Damien sounded tense.

“At home. Why?”

“Are you alone?”

I glanced at Natalie.

“Not exactly.”

Silence.

Then his voice dropped.

“Who's there, Ava?”

I looked directly at Natalie.

“Someone named Natalie.”

The silence that followed was unlike anything I'd heard from him before.

“Ava,” he said carefully, “don't let her leave.”

I frowned.

“What?”

“I'm coming.”

The call ended.

I lowered my phone.

Natalie looked terrified.

“What did he say?”

“He's coming.”

She stepped backward.

“No. I can't stay.”

“Wait. You came here to tell me something. What is it?”

She looked at me, her eyes suddenly filled with urgency.

“Ask Damien about the documents. Not the ones that went missing.”

I stared at her.

“What does that mean?”

But she was already moving toward the staircase.

“Natalie!”

She didn't turn around.

I hurried into the hallway, but by the time I reached the staircase, she was gone.

---

Damien arrived less than ten minutes later.

He didn't bother pretending to be calm.

“Where is she?”

I stepped aside.

“She left.”

He looked down the hallway.

“Which way?”

“Damien, slow down.”

He turned toward me.

“Did she give you anything?”

I held up the photograph.

His eyes fixed on it.

For a moment, he looked genuinely shaken.

“Where did you get this?”

“She gave it to me.”

He took the photograph carefully.

I watched his expression as he examined it.

“Who is Richard Hayes?” I asked.

His eyes lifted to mine.

“Where did you hear that name?”

“From Natalie.”

He looked away.

“Damien.”

He rubbed his forehead.

“Richard was involved in the business project I told you about.”

“The one with the missing documents?”

He nodded.

“What did Natalie mean when she said I should ask you about documents that weren't missing?”

He didn't answer.

I stepped closer.

“Please don't do this again.”

He looked at me.

“Not here.”

I laughed bitterly.

“Of course. Not here. Not now. Not yet. Is there ever a good time?”

“Ava, please.”

I shook my head.

“You know what? I'm tired of being told to wait.”

He looked as if he wanted to say something, but his phone rang.

He checked the screen.

Marcus.

He answered.

“What?”

I watched his expression change.

“What do you mean she's gone?”

A pause.

“Who saw her?”

Another pause.

“Send me the address.”

He ended the call.

I stared at him.

“What's happening?”

He slipped his phone into his pocket.

“Someone broke into an old office connected to the project.”

My stomach dropped.

“Was anything stolen?”

He looked at me.

“No.”

“Then what happened?”

His jaw tightened.

“Someone left a message.”

“What message?”

He hesitated.

Then he showed me his phone.

It was a photograph of a sheet of paper lying on a desk.

Three words were written across it.

SHE REMEMBERS EVERYTHING.

I looked up slowly.

“Who does?”

Damien stared at the photograph.

“Natalie.”

---

After Damien left, I remained standing in the middle of my living room.

The photograph of him and Natalie lay on the coffee table.

I picked it up again.

This time, I examined the background more carefully.

There was a sign on the building behind them.

A company name.

And beneath it, almost hidden by the edge of the photograph, was a date.

June 17.

I took a picture of it and zoomed in.

Then my phone vibrated.

Another unknown number.

Unknown: Now you've met her.

My fingers went cold.

A second message followed.

Unknown: I hope you asked the right questions.

I stared at the screen.

Then another message appeared.

Unknown: Because Natalie isn't the only person who remembers that night.

I slowly lowered my phone.

For the first time, I wondered whether the messages had never been about warning me away from Damien.

Perhaps someone wanted me to find Natalie.

And perhaps the truth they were trying to reveal was much bigger than I had imagined.