Chapter 5: The Body at the Warehouse

Ethan didn't wait. Before Marcus could finish speaking, he reached for the black jacket hanging beside the hospital bed and pulled it on. "Mr. Knight," Marcus said, following him. "The doctor said you need at least another week before you start moving around." "I'm done resting." "Your bullet wound hasn't healed." "It'll heal later," Marcus sighed. "I've worked with you for years. You're the most stubborn man I've ever met." Ethan didn't answer. He simply walked toward the door.

I quickly stepped in front of him. "You're not going alone." He stopped. His dark eyes met mine. "You are." "I'm coming." "No." "I'm not asking." His face stayed calm, but I could see the worry hiding behind his eyes. "This isn't a game, Lillian." "I know." "Someone could be waiting for us." "Then you shouldn't face them alone."

For a few seconds, neither of us spoke. Marcus folded his arms. "She's stubborn." Ethan let out a quiet breath. "I noticed." Marcus almost smiled. "She gets that from her father. I crossed my arms. "I'll pretend I didn't hear that." Ethan looked at Marcus. "Get the car."

An hour later, we arrived at the old warehouse near the abandoned docks. Dark clouds covered the sky. Rain fell steadily, making the roads slippery. Police cars surrounded the building, their flashing blue and red lights reflecting on the wet ground. Yellow tape blocked the entrance. Several officers stood nearby, speaking quietly. The whole place felt heavy like something terrible had happened.

A detective walked toward Marcus. He looked tired. "The body's inside." Marcus nodded. "No reporters?" "We kept everything quiet." "Good." The detective looked at Ethan. "I've heard a lot about you." "I'm sure you have." "I wish we were meeting under better circumstances." "So do I." Without waiting another second, Ethan walked toward the warehouse. I stayed close behind him.

The old building smelled of dust, rust, and old wood. Rain leaked through holes in the roof. Broken windows let cold wind blow inside. Some old crates were stacked against the walls while others had fallen apart years ago. Everything looked forgotten except the body. It lay in the middle of the floor beneath a white sheet. Two police officers stood beside it.

The detective slowly bent down. "You may want to prepare yourselves." He pulled the sheet back. I covered my mouth.

It wasn't Sarah. It was a man around sixty years old, his face frozen in fear. His clothes were dirty. His hands had been tied behind his back with thick rope. A deep cut stretched across his chest. The blood had already dried. Whoever had done this wanted him to suffer.

Ethan stared at the body without moving. His eyes became cold. "I know him." The detective looked surprised. "You do?" Ethan nodded slowly. "He was the detective who investigated Sarah's murder. The room became silent. I looked at Ethan. "The detective?" "He disappeared fifteen years ago." Marcus frowned. "Everyone believed he retired." "He didn't."

Ethan slowly knelt beside the body. He carefully examined the man's hands. Something caught his attention. "Wait." The detective stepped closer. "What is it?" Ethan gently opened the man's fingers. The dead man had been holding something tightly, a small silver key. Attached to it was an old paper tag. The writing had almost faded, but one thing could still be read clearly: Locker 27.

Everyone stared at the key. I looked at Ethan. "What does it open?" He slowly stood. "I don't know." "But whoever killed him didn't find it." Marcus carefully placed the key into an evidence bag. "If he held onto this while dying…" "He wanted someone to find it," Ethan finished.

The detective cleared his throat. "There was something else." He handed Ethan a brown envelope. "It was lying beside the body." Ethan opened it carefully. Inside was one folded piece of paper. Nothing else. He unfolded it. His expression changed immediately. "What?" I asked. He silently handed me the paper.

Only one sentence was written: Ask Victor Sterling what happened fifteen years ago.

I felt my stomach tighten. My father. Again. I slowly looked at Marcus. His face had turned completely white. His hands shook slightly. He knew something. "Ethan…" He folded the paper. "He lied to me." "You think my father wrote this?" "I don't know." "But someone wants us to believe he knows the truth." "The truth about Sarah?" "Yes." He looked around the warehouse. "This body wasn't left here by accident." "It was a message." "For you?" "For both of us."

I suddenly felt like someone was watching. The back of my neck tingled. I slowly turned around. Nothing. Only broken walls, dark corners, and machines covered in dust. Still… the feeling wouldn't leave. "We should go," I whispered. Ethan nodded. "I agree."

Just as we started walking toward the exit a loud sound echoed outside. Boom! The entire warehouse shook. Dust fell from the ceiling. Several windows exploded inward. Glass flew across the room. Police officers shouted outside. "Explosion! Move! Everyone get out!" Smoke rushed through the building, spreading quickly. The lights flickered. The roof groaned loudly above us. "It's collapsing!" someone yelled.

Ethan grabbed my hand. "Run!" We sprinted toward the exit. Pieces of wood crashed onto the floor. Metal beams bent above our heads. The building shook again from another explosion. Boom! The walls cracked. I could barely breathe through the thick smoke. We were only a few steps from the door.

Then Ethan suddenly stopped."W."" "What?"efore I could finishspeaking;, his eyes narrowed. He shoved me behind him. Hard. "What are you doing?" He didn't answer. Instead, he stared outside. I followed his gaze. A tiny red light rested on the middle of his chest. A laser. My heart stopped. A sniper. Hidden somewhere outside.

"Ethan!" Time seemed to freeze. The rain kept falling. The smoke filled the doorway. No one moved.

Then Bang! The gun fired. And Ethan threw himself toward me.