The box

Anastasia’s POV 

The memory hit me so hard that I was out of bed before my mind could fully process it. Beneath my mother’s bed sat an old wooden box, small, dark, and impossibly heavy for its size. Clara had always been fiercely protective of it, artfully dodging every question I ever asked. It had remained a background detail of my childhood until tonight, until someone broke into my apartment, until the box went missing, and until a stranger texted me asking what my mother had left behind.

I threw on my robe and stepped out into the hallway, startled to find Jaxon leaning against the wall opposite my door with his arms folded across his chest. He straightened immediately, his gaze scanning my face as I stepped toward him.

"You're supposed to be sleeping," he said.

"I remembered something. The wooden box under my mother's bed. someone took it."

"I know. I was there when we realized it was missing."

"And you didn't think to tell me?" I stepped closer, the heat of frustration rising in my chest. "Everyone keeps making decisions about what I get to know. My mother did it for twenty-seven years, and now you're doing the exact same thing."

"You had enough to deal with, Anastasia."

"That isn't your call to make."

"Right now, it is." His jaw tightened, but I held his gaze without backing down.

"The original text told me to ask what my mother left behind," I said, holding out my phone. "My phone just received another one."

He took the device, his expression darkening as he read the screen. Silence stretched between us before he finally looked back up.

"Clara gave me something four years ago," he admitted softly, dragging a hand over his jaw. Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out a familiar silver key. "She gave it to me before she died and made me promise to keep it safe. If anything happened to her, it was meant to open the box."

My heart hammered against my ribs as I stared at the metal in his hand. The betrayal burned worse than the unanswered questions. "You've had that key for four years, and you never said a word because she asked you not to?" I let out a bitter laugh. "I don't want another excuse about how my mother was trying to protect me, Jaxon. You know what's inside."

"I don't," he answered quietly. "I swear I don't."

"Then give it to me."

"We don't even know where the box is," he argued, his voice tense. "You have no idea what people will do to get their hands on what's inside."

"Then stop protecting me from the truth!"

The words hung heavy in the narrow space between us. Jaxon took a step forward, closing the distance until I could feel the heat radiating from him. His eyes flicked down to my lips before rising back to mine, his breathing shifting alongside my own. For a fraction of a second, his hand lifted toward my face, hovering just inches away before he caught himself and let it fall.

"We shouldn't do this," he murmured, his voice rough. "Forget why you're here. Forget why I'm protecting you."

"And why are you protecting me?"

"Because I promised your mother."

The answer stung in a way it shouldn't have. I looked away first, swallowing the prickle of hurt in my throat.

Without another word, Jaxon pressed the cold silver key into my palm, his fingers brushing against mine. "Tomorrow, we will find the box."

"Tonight," I corrected, closing my hand tightly around the metal. "I've spent my entire life waiting for answers. I'm done waiting."

He studied me for a beat, recognized the finality in my tone, and simply nodded. "Then we find it tonight."

He turned toward the stairs, but before we could take a single step, his phone vibrated in his grip. He paused, checking the screen as his whole body went rigid. Wordlessly, he handed the phone to me.

Message after message flared across the screen in rapid succession:

THEY HAVE THE KEY.

LET THEM FIND THE BOX.

LET THEM OPEN IT.

BECAUSE ONCE THEY DO, ANASTASIA WILL FINALLY LEARN WHO HER MOTHER WAS RUNNING FROM.

A sudden chill swept down the hallway. Jaxon instantly reached for his sidearm while I stared at the glowing screen in my hands. Whoever had been hunting me didn't just know about Clara's hidden treasure. they knew we had the key, and they were actively waiting for us to use it. Whatever Clara had buried inside that box wasn't just a secret about her past; it was the truth that would finally bring my stalker out of the shadows.