Chapter Eight

The room went silent after the video ended. Marcus replayed the video again and again, but neither of us spoke.

The grainy footage showed the hooded figure kneeling beside Marcus's car, tampering with it before walking away. Then, turned just enough for the camera to catch part of his face, it wasn't not clear, and not enough for certainty, but it was enough to recognize and was enough to make Marcus pale.

I looked at him. "Who is it?" His jaw tightened. "Not yet," anger flashed through me. "Marcus."

"I need to verify something first."

I stood abruptly. "You expect me to sit here after everything that has happened," "I expect you to stay alive." His voice came out sharper than intended, we stared at each other and for several seconds neither of us moved, and then he sighed. "I'm not hiding it from you."

"Then tell me."

"I could be wrong," his expression remained grim. "And if I'm wrong, telling you now will send you chasing ghosts."

I hated that he had a point. Eventually, I sat back down, barely.

Marcus returned the laptop to the table. "The only thing I'm certain about is that the accident wasn't random," I laughed bitterly. "I figured that out when my grandmother's apartment exploded."

His face softened slightly, the mention of Esther changed everything, the explosion still sat heavily in my chest, and the image of flames climbing through the windows refused to leave me because someone had wanted that place destroyed because they wanted the evidence gone and maybe, someone had wanted us dead.

My phone buzzed all of sudden an Unknown Number again,I froze immediately,Marcus noticed immediately.

"Open it."

I did and a single message appeared saying stop looking for Esther, my heart quickened as another message followed: You won't like what you find then the number disappeared, leaving no profile, or trace, nothing.

Marcus cursed under his breath while I stared at the screen, the wording echoed in my mind, it wasn't You'll never find her, and it wasn't She's dead. Instead, it said: You won't like what you find that sounded different, as if Esther wasn't gone, and as if someone knew exactly where she was.

********

Across the city, Nathaniel Vance wasn't sleeping, the traffic-camera report remained spread across his desk right beside the fire report. The timing and location bothered him, but most of all, Elena bothered him.

For two years she had followed routines by being predictable, quiet, and invisible and suddenly she was everywhere: the divorce request, the public confrontation, the restraining order, the mysterious building, and the fire. Nothing made sense.

A knock sounded at his office door, but Nathaniel didn't look up. "Come in."

Elora entered, looking perfect as always, but Nathaniel noticed a tiny, almost invisible tension he hadn't seen in her before, yet it was distinctly there.

She smiled. "Still working?"

Nathaniel leaned back. "Where were you tonight?" The question landed like a slap.Elora froze for only a second, then recovered. "Shopping."

"Until midnight?"

Her smile weakened. "Why are you asking?" Nathaniel slid the traffic-camera report across the desk. "I asked first."

Elora looked down, and the blood drained from her face only slightly, but enough. 

Nathaniel noticed, and his eyes narrowed. This is interesting,very interesting.

*********

Back at the apartment, Marcus finally opened the remaining documents from Esther's lockbox and most contained financial records with nothing obvious or useful, until one envelope appeared, it was smaller than the others, yellowed with age, and had no writing or labels, just a wax seal broken years ago.

Marcus carefully unfolded the paper inside, and my heartbeat quickened. 

"What is it?"

He frowned, then handed it over. I immediately scanned the contents and was confused because It wasn't a letter, it was a list of dozens of names. Some were crossed out, and some were circled, most meant nothing to me until one name jumped out: Vance.

Not Nathaniel, and not his father just Vance, written in Esther's handwriting and circled twice.

My stomach tightened. "Why would she have this?" Marcus took back the paper, his lawyer brain already working. "These aren't random."

"What are they?"

He studied the page, and then something clicked as his eyes widened…"What?"

"I think these are beneficiaries," "Beneficiaries of what?"

"I don't know," his voice lowered. "But every name here appears connected to money." Money again, everything came back to money.

The next morning arrived far too quickly, I barely slept because every creak in the apartment sounded suspicious, and every passing car felt threatening.

Around seven o'clock, Marcus received a call and stepped onto the balcony to answer when he returned, his expression had changed. "What happened?"

"David found something."

My stomach sank. "What now?"....Marcus handed me his phone, where an old article from nearly thirty years ago filled the screen, the headline read: Mysterious Death of European Business Magnate Still Raises Questions.

My heart jumped because the article contained a photograph of the same man from Esther's picture,the same man connected to the birth certificate and a supposed dead man. 

I quickly continued reading, most details had been blacked out in the digital archive, but one paragraph remained visible,I froze then read it again and again.

"What is it?" Marcus asked.

I pointed ,the article mentioned an investigation into a missing child,a female infant who was never found,my throat tightened. No, no way, the dates matched too closely, far too closely. 

Marcus read the paragraph, and his face darkened immediately and neither of us spoke because both of us were thinking the same thing: if the missing child was connected to that man, then someone had hidden her deliberately.

Hours later, another surprise arrived when a courier knocked on the apartment door, Marcus checked through the security camera first it was an unknown delivery service and an unknown sender with no return address, we exchanged a look, then opened it carefully.

And Inside was a small black box with nothing else,no note, no explanation, just a box, my pulse hammered as I slowly lifted the lid and inside sat an old silver key, and beneath it, a single folded piece of paper.

I unfolded it to find three words written across the page….Train Station by Noon.

I looked up, seeing Marcus look equally confused. "Who sent this?"

I shook my head, then noticed a tiny and almost invisible writing in the corner,my breath caught because I recognized the handwriting instantly it was Esther. She had sent it. She was alive.

Marcus grabbed his coat immediately. "We're going, "Obviously, “But carefully."

I nodded because after the explosion, nothing was simple anymore.

At exactly noon, we arrived at the train station. Crowds of commuters, tourists, and workers moved around us,thousands of faces. It was too many, making it a perfect place to disappear or to hide. 

We searched for nearly twenty minutes without finding Grandma ,no clue, and nothing, then my phone vibrated an Unknown Number again.

I opened it immediately to find a single message with no greeting and no warning. It was just six words ... .Look behind you, Elena. Right now.

Every nerve in my body went cold. Slowly, I turned around and saw a woman standing across the platform with white hair and familiar eyes. It was Grandmother Esther, alive and watching me.

Relief surged through me, until I noticed the tall, well-dressed, and dangerously calm man standing beside her grandma wasn't smiling, she wasn't waving, and she wasn't moving. She looked terrified.

The man beside her slowly placed a hand on her shoulder, then lifted his gaze and looked directly at me. He looked as if he had been waiting, as if he knew exactly who I was, and as if our meeting had been planned for years.

Then the arriving train rushed between us. And when it passed, both of them were gone.