The mesaage
1734 Words
Chapter 9 — The Message
Nadia didn't look back.
She ran.
The rain came down so hard that the world around her became a blur of headlights, wet pavement, and shadows. Her shoes slipped against the ground, but she kept moving.
The folders from Box 47 were pressed tightly against her chest.
Her mother's letter was inside them.
The unfinished sentence was burned into her mind.
Don't trust Mr. Elias. He—
She couldn't stop thinking about it.
What had her mother been about to say?
And why had Mr. Elias helped her escape if her mother had warned her not to trust him?
Nadia turned into a crowded street.
People moved beneath umbrellas.
Cars crawled through the rain.
She slowed down.
For the first time since leaving the bank, she allowed herself to breathe.
She looked behind her.
The dark car was gone.
But that didn't make her feel safe.
It made her more nervous.
She pulled her phone from her pocket.
The message was still there.
RUN. DON'T GO HOME.
And beneath it:
—A
Adrian.
It had to be him.
Didn't it?
Nadia stared at the letter.
If Adrian was still being held, how had he sent the message?
She opened his contact.
Her thumb hovered over the call button.
Then she pressed it.
The phone rang.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
No answer.
Nadia tried again.
Nothing.
She swallowed.
“Come on, Adrian.”
Voicemail.
She lowered the phone.
Something was wrong.
---
Nadia found a small covered seating area outside a closed café.
She sat down.
Her clothes were soaked, and her hair clung to her face.
She opened the folder again.
The photograph of the four people stared back at her.
She had looked at it dozens of times.
But something bothered her.
She held it closer.
Adrian.
Layla.
Ethan.
And the fourth person.
They were all facing the camera.
Except Adrian.
He wasn't looking at the photographer.
He was looking at Elena.
Nadia frowned.
Why?
She studied Elena's face.
Elena looked frightened.
Not angry.
Not surprised.
Afraid.
Nadia turned the photograph over.
There was nothing.
She checked the corners.
Nothing.
Then she noticed a faint mark near the bottom.
A number.
12-07-19.
Nadia stared at it.
The date meant nothing to her.
She pulled out her mother's letter.
She read it again.
Nothing.
She checked the other photographs.
No number.
Only the first one.
She searched the folder.
Nothing.
Then she remembered something Mr. Elias had said.
Elena found something three years ago.
Nadia's eyes narrowed.
“What did you find?”
She looked at the photograph again.
Adrian wasn't looking at the camera.
He was looking at Elena.
As though he already knew something was about to happen.
Nadia's phone buzzed.
She nearly dropped it.
Unknown number.
A message.
YOU'RE LOOKING AT THE WRONG PERSON.
Nadia froze.
Another message arrived.
LOOK AT ADRIAN.
Her eyes moved slowly toward the photograph.
She stared at him.
Then another message appeared.
HE KNEW ABOUT ELENA BEFORE HE EVER MET YOU.
Nadia's heart sank.
“No.”
She shook her head.
“That isn't true.”
But she remembered something.
The first night in the library.
The file.
Adrian hadn't looked surprised when he saw her name.
He had looked worried.
As if he already knew what was coming.
Nadia's stomach tightened.
Was Adrian hiding something from her?
Of course he was.
He had admitted he'd been watching her for three months.
But what else hadn't he told her?
Her phone buzzed again.
ASK HIM ABOUT JULY 12.
Nadia stared at the number on the photograph.
12-07-19.
July 12.
But what happened on that date?
She tried calling Adrian again.
Nothing.
Then she heard a voice.
“Nadia?”
She looked up.
Layla stood several feet away.
Her face was pale.
Her clothes were soaked.
Nadia immediately stood.
“Layla?”
Layla looked around nervously.
“How did you find me?”
“I followed you.”
“You shouldn't have.”
“I know.”
Layla stepped closer.
“Are you okay?”
Nadia didn't answer.
Instead, she held up the photograph.
“Do you know what this is?”
Layla's expression changed.
She stared at it.
“Where did you get that?”
“Box 47.”
Layla went silent.
“You opened it?”
“Yes.”
“What did you find?”
“Answers.”
Layla shook her head.
“No. You found more questions.”
Nadia studied her.
“You knew about Box 47.”
“No.”
“Don't lie to me.”
“I swear I didn't.”
“Then why do you look terrified?”
Layla looked toward the road.
“Because if they know you opened it, they'll come for you.”
“They already did.”
Layla's face went pale.
“What?”
Nadia showed her the messages.
Layla read them.
Her hands began shaking.
“Who is sending these?”
“I don't know.”
Layla stared at the screen.
“Maybe we should go to the police.”
Nadia thought about it.
Then she remembered the photographs.
The men.
Westbridge.
Mr. Elias.
Her mother.
She shook her head.
“What if they're already involved?”
Layla didn't answer.
Nadia folded the photograph.
“I need to find Adrian.”
Layla grabbed her arm.
“Nadia, Adrian is the reason you're in this.”
“No.”
Nadia looked at her.
“He's also the reason I'm still alive.”
Layla released her.
Neither spoke.
Then Nadia's phone buzzed again.
A new message.
This one was different.
I CAN PROVE ADRIAN SENT THE FIRST MESSAGE.
Nadia's heart stopped.
She opened it.
A photograph appeared.
It showed Adrian.
He was still sitting in the metal chair.
Still restrained.
But his hand was visible.
There was a phone beside him.
The picture had clearly been taken recently.
Layla covered her mouth.
“He's alive.”
Nadia zoomed in.
The photograph was blurry.
But she could see something on Adrian's wrist.
A black band.
Nadia remembered it.
He'd been wearing it the night they first met.
But there was something else.
A small mark.
Three lines.
She had seen that symbol before.
On the photograph from Box 47.
Nadia's breathing slowed.
“Wait.”
“What?”
“This isn't just about Elena.”
Layla looked at her.
Nadia placed the two photographs side by side.
The symbol was identical.
Three lines.
A small circle.
And a number underneath.
12.
Nadia's stomach dropped.
“What's that?”
“I don't know.”
But Nadia did.
She remembered the old house.
The fireplace.
The metal box.
The key.
And the words Mr. Elias had said.
Someone has been watching you.
Three years.
Three years of secrets.
Three years of lies.
And now the same symbol was appearing everywhere.
Nadia's phone buzzed again.
This time, the message was only four words.
HE'S NOT THE ENEMY.
Nadia stared at it.
Layla whispered, “Who?”
Before Nadia could answer, another message arrived.
BUT HE KNOWS WHO IS.
---
Across the city, Adrian opened his eyes.
The room was dark.
His wrists were still restrained.
His head throbbed.
He could hear voices outside the door.
“She opened the box.”
Another voice answered.
“I told you she would.”
“You said she wouldn't find the letter.”
“She wasn't supposed to.”
Adrian closed his eyes.
The letter.
They knew about the letter.
That meant someone had told them.
Someone who knew what was inside Box 47.
Someone who had access to information Nadia had only just discovered.
Adrian pulled against the restraints.
Nothing.
A door opened.
One of the men walked inside.
Adrian looked at him.
“Where is she?”
The man smiled.
“Still worried about Nadia?”
Adrian said nothing.
The man placed a phone on the table.
Adrian saw the screen.
Nadia.
She was standing in the rain.
Alive.
Safe.
For now.
“You should be thanking us,” the man said.
“For what?”
“For giving you a chance to tell her the truth.”
Adrian's expression hardened.
“What truth?”
The man leaned closer.
“Ask her about July 12.”
Adrian went completely still.
The man smiled.
“You remember.”
Adrian's jaw tightened.
“Don't involve her.”
“It's too late.”
The man picked up the phone.
“She already opened Box 47.”
Adrian stared at him.
“You don't understand.”
“Oh?”
“She isn't the person you're looking for.”
The man laughed.
“That's where you're wrong.”
He walked toward the door.
“She is exactly who we're looking for.”
The door closed.
Adrian stared into the darkness.
Then he whispered to himself:
“Nadia…”
---
Back outside the café, Nadia stared at her phone.
She knew she had to find Adrian.
But she also knew she couldn't trust everything she'd been told.
Not anymore.
Not after Box 47.
Not after her mother's letter.
Not after the messages.
She stood.
“I'm going back to the house.”
Layla stared at her.
“What?”
“My old house.”
“Why?”
“Because something is missing.”
“What?”
Nadia looked at the silver key in her hand.
“I don't know yet.”
They walked through the rain.
The old house was dark when they arrived.
Nadia pushed open the gate.
The house looked exactly as she'd left it.
Except for one thing.
The fireplace.
She walked toward it.
The hidden compartment was still open.
She searched inside.
Nothing.
Then she noticed a small scratch beneath the metal box.
She ran her finger across it.
A symbol.
Three lines.
A circle.
And underneath it—
12.
Nadia's breath caught.
She pressed the symbol.
A small section of the wall moved.
Behind it was another compartment.
Inside was a second key.
This one was black.
Nadia picked it up.
A voice spoke behind her.
“Your mother never told you what happened that night, did she?”
Nadia froze.
She slowly turned around.
Someone stood in the doorway.
Someone she recognized.
Someone she had never expected to see again.
Nadia's heart stopped.
And for the first time that night, she couldn't tell whether she was looking at an answer—
or the beginning of something much worse.
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