CHAPTER THREE
1256 Words
THE MAN BEHIND THE NAME
Amelia did not sleep.
The stranger's voice remained in her head.
Someone who is trying to keep you alive.
She had heard fear before.
She had heard desperation.
But there had been something different in his voice.
Certainty.
Whoever he was, he knew something about Daniel.
And somehow, he knew about her visit to Vale Arts Group.
Amelia sat beside the window until the sky began to brighten.
Across the room, Nadia was still asleep.
Amelia looked at her daughter and made a silent promise.
Whatever was happening, Nadia would not be dragged into it.
She would protect her.
Even if it meant running again.
---
By morning, Nadia was sitting at the table with her sketchbook.
"Mummy, look."
Amelia walked over.
Nadia had drawn a woman standing in front of a huge building.
At the top, she had written:
VALE ARTS GROUP.
Amelia smiled.
"You really like that building."
"I like art."
"You like it more than breakfast."
Nadia laughed.
"Maybe."
Amelia sat beside her.
"You know, when I was your age, I used to draw every day."
"Really?"
"All the time."
"What happened?"
Amelia paused.
"Life happened."
Nadia looked confused.
"That's not an answer."
Amelia smiled.
"Maybe one day I'll tell you everything."
Nadia leaned against her.
"Promise?"
"Promise."
Neither of them knew how soon that promise would be tested.
---
At Vale Arts Group, Adrian Vale stood before a wall covered with paintings.
His company was known throughout the city.
But very few people knew that Adrian had built it from almost nothing.
He had spent years turning a small art business into an empire.
Yet success had never satisfied him.
There were things money could not erase.
Regret.
Secrets.
And the past.
His assistant entered.
"Mr. Vale."
Adrian turned.
"What did you find?"
The assistant placed a folder on the desk.
"About Amelia Carter."
Adrian opened it.
He read silently.
Twenty-nine years old.
Widowed.
One daughter.
Recently moved across the city.
Formerly worked from home as a seamstress.
Artistically talented but never professionally trained.
Adrian stopped.
"Her husband."
"Daniel Carter."
"What about him?"
The assistant lowered his voice.
"His death was investigated two years ago."
"I know."
"But there was something unusual."
Adrian looked up.
"What?"
"The case was closed quickly."
"Why?"
"We don't know."
Adrian closed the folder.
"Find out."
---
Amelia spent the morning visiting several businesses.
She needed work.
The rent was due soon.
Nadia needed school supplies.
Food was becoming expensive.
By afternoon, Amelia had received three polite rejections.
She sat on a bench outside a small café.
Her old sketchbook was in her bag.
She pulled it out.
For a few minutes, she drew.
It was something she hadn't done properly in years.
A woman standing beneath a tree.
A child beside her.
A road stretching into the distance.
Amelia stared at the drawing.
The woman looked tired.
But she was still standing.
"That's beautiful."
Amelia looked up.
A man stood beside the bench.
She recognized him.
Adrian Vale.
She quickly closed the sketchbook.
"Mr. Vale."
He smiled slightly.
"You know me."
"Everyone knows you."
"Do they?"
Amelia didn't answer.
Adrian glanced at the sketchbook.
"You have talent."
"Thank you."
"You should submit more work."
"I already submitted my portfolio."
"I know."
Amelia's eyes narrowed.
"How?"
"I'm the owner."
"Right."
There was an awkward silence.
Adrian sat on the other end of the bench.
"Why did you stop painting?"
Amelia looked at him.
"I didn't stop because I wanted to."
"Then why?"
"Money."
Adrian studied her.
"Money?"
"My family couldn't afford art school. Later, I got married. Then my husband died."
Something shifted in Adrian's expression.
"I'm sorry."
"Thank you."
He stood.
"You'll hear from the company."
Amelia frowned.
"About my application?"
"Yes."
He walked away.
Amelia watched him disappear into the crowd.
She couldn't explain why.
But something about the conversation unsettled her.
---
That evening, Amelia collected Nadia from school.
Maggie was waiting outside the gate.
"Amelia!"
Amelia smiled.
"Hello, Maggie."
Magdalena hugged Nadia.
"Can Nadia come to my house tomorrow?"
Nadia looked at her mother hopefully.
"Please?"
Amelia laughed.
"Let me think about it."
Maggie grinned.
"I'll take that as a yes."
The girls walked together.
They talked about drawings, school, and a new art competition.
Nadia suddenly stopped.
"Maggie."
"What?"
"Look."
Across the road stood a black car.
Nadia stared at it.
"That car was near our house yesterday."
Amelia's heart skipped.
"Are you sure?"
Nadia nodded.
"The same one."
Amelia looked across the road.
The car was empty.
She took Nadia's hand.
"Let's go."
---
That night, Amelia received another message.
Don't trust Adrian Vale.
She stared at the screen.
Her first instinct was to delete it.
Instead, she typed:
Who are you?
The response came immediately.
Ask him what happened the night Daniel died.
Amelia's fingers went cold.
She typed:
What does Adrian have to do with my husband?
No response.
She waited.
Nothing.
Then another message arrived.
He knows more than he will ever admit.
Amelia put the phone down.
Her mind raced.
Why would Adrian know anything about Daniel?
She remembered the way he had looked at her earlier.
Had he already known who she was?
---
Across the city, Adrian stood in his office.
His assistant entered hurriedly.
"We found something."
Adrian turned.
"What?"
"Daniel Carter visited this building six days before his death."
Adrian's face changed.
"Why wasn't that in the original report?"
"It was removed."
"By whom?"
The assistant hesitated.
"We're still investigating."
Adrian walked toward the window.
Daniel had come to Vale Arts Group.
Six days before he died.
And now Amelia had appeared.
Coincidence?
He didn't believe in coincidences.
"Find out why he came here."
---
Later that night, Amelia was preparing dinner when someone knocked.
Three slow knocks.
She froze.
Nadia looked up.
"Who is it?"
"Stay here."
Amelia walked toward the door.
"Who's there?"
No answer.
Another knock.
She looked through the peephole.
Nobody.
Amelia stepped back.
Then she heard footsteps moving away.
She waited.
Finally, she opened the door slightly.
There was an envelope on the floor.
No name.
No address.
She picked it up.
Inside was a photograph.
Daniel.
Standing outside Vale Arts Group.
The date was printed underneath.
Six days before his death.
Amelia's hands began to tremble.
There was something written on the back.
She turned it over.
Three words.
HE WASN'T ALONE.
A second piece of paper fell from the envelope.
Amelia picked it up.
There was another photograph.
This time, the person standing beside Daniel had been carefully cut out.
Only part of a man's expensive suit remained.
But on the corner of the photograph was a familiar symbol.
The silver emblem of Vale Arts Group.
Amelia stared at it.
Then her phone rang.
She answered without thinking.
A man's voice whispered:
"Now you know where to look."
"Who are you?"
Silence.
Then:
"Ask Adrian Vale who he met that night."
The call ended.
Amelia looked toward Nadia's bedroom.
Her daughter was asleep.
Amelia closed the door and locked it.
For the first time, she wondered if moving across the city had actually taken them farther from danger.
Or had she unknowingly moved directly into its center?
She looked at Daniel's photograph again.
And then she noticed something she hadn't seen before.
In the reflection of the building's glass doors, there was a woman standing behind Daniel.
Amelia brought the photograph closer.
Her heart began pounding.
She recognized the woman.
She had seen her before.
On the night of the murder.
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