THE PAST THAT REFUSED TO STAY DEAD
1331 Words
CHAPTER THREE
The memories of the car ride home were already fading into a hazy blur. Amelia didn’t remember leaving the lawyer’s office or how she had navigated through the city streets. The shocking news headlines kept bouncing around her subconscious like relentless echoes. They were all about the unknown woman, the mysterious inheritance, and the speculated personal connection that had suddenly thrust her into the spotlight.
She tossed her phone onto the passenger seat with a heavy sigh and groaned loudly. Just one day earlier, she had lived a perfectly normal, quiet life. Now, the whole city seemed to be buzzing about the billionaire she had met less than one hour ago. Exhaustion weighed on her shoulders as she pulled up in front of Hart Books. The moment the familiar building came into view, a comforting feeling washed over her once again, offering a small moment of peace amid the chaos.
The charm of the two-story brick building was undeniable. Her grandfather had owned and nurtured Hart Books for over forty years. To outsiders, it was simply a quaint bookstore filled with dusty shelves and the scent of old paper. But to Amelia, it was home the heart of her childhood memories, a sanctuary where she had spent countless hours reading and dreaming. The nerves of the long, devastating day began to fade with each step she took toward the entrance. For the first time since the funeral, she allowed herself a deep breath, letting the cool evening air fill her lungs.
But a sudden disruption yanked her back to harsh reality as she noticed a light was on upstairs. Amelia froze in her tracks, her mind racing as she replayed the mental memory of leaving for the funeral that morning. She was certain she had turned everything off before locking up. Her heart began to pound. She gripped the only thing she had a small umbrella holding it tightly like a makeshift weapon as she climbed the flight of stairs. Her pulse thundered in her ears with every step. The light that had disrupted her fragile calm was coming from her grandfather’s private office. The door stood slightly ajar, and inside, she caught a glimpse of a moving shadow.
Out of pure instinct, she gripped the umbrella even tighter and called out, her voice shaky but determined, “Who’s there?” She pushed the door the rest of the way open. The office appeared empty. She was only looking at the desk, bookshelves lined with old volumes, and a window overlooking the quiet street. Nobody was there, it's just an empty office.
A nervous laugh escaped her lips, maybe she was just imagining things, her grief playing cruel tricks on her mind. Then she noticed that one of the desk drawers was not closed in its regular way. It was pulled out slightly, crooked and suspicious. Her grandfather’s papers were spread all over the surface of the desk, like someone had searched this room very recently, and they hadn’t been careful about hiding their tracks.
Amelia moved forward at once, her breath catching in her throat. The drawer held some very important documents: tax records, property deeds, old family photographs. Over 90% of them were untouched. But there was one glaring exception.
The folder was not there, the blue folder which her grandfather had always kept secret and never let anyone see, no matter how many times she had asked about it over the years. She recalled asking him about it many years ago but his grandfather had given her only a gentle smile and would simply say one thing: Some truths are dangerous, sweetheart.
At the time, she thought he was just teasing her, spinning one of his mysterious stories, but now she doubted it deeply.
Suddenly, a loud knock downstairs startled her so badly she nearly screamed. Another knock came loud and firm, echoing through the empty bookstore. Amelia made a rush downstairs, her footsteps quick on the wooden floor. Through the glass door, she saw an expensive black car parked outside, its sleek lines gleaming under the streetlights and beside it stood Adrian Kingsley.
She was already in a terrible mood, her emotions raw. Why are you here? she demanded, opening the door just a crack. His face was unreadable, a mask of controlled intensity. “We need to talk.” She declined immediately and was already shutting the door.
A strong hand halted it firmly. Adrian’s voice was low and urgent as he said in a low voice “The folder.”
Amelia stopped in her tracks, her blood turning cold. What folder?
“The blue one.”
Her veins chilled with shock. How did he know about it? Adrian’s piercing gray eyes bored through her as he said it is clear the folder was taken.
Were you informed of it? she asked.
He did not immediately give a reply. That silence gave her all the answers she needed. Her anger flared hot and bright. You knew my grandfather was hiding something.
I had a hunch, he admitted quietly but what exactly did you suspect? Adrian Kingsley looked away after a while, as if trying to find the right words. Then he said something that completely changed the situation. “My father was in possession of that folder.”
Amelia gave him a blank look, stunned. “Really?” Adrian answered her, "Yes, but that was before it was stolen."
The space between them suddenly became very tense, charged with unspoken questions. What’s inside? she asked in a low voice, barely above a whisper.
Adrian clenched his jaw. “I have no idea.” “You want me to believe that? There's no way I'm going to believe that. That is the reality Amelia.
Just for a moment, they stood in heavy silence. The rain was still falling outside, tapping rhythmically against the windows. Adrian then reached into his coat pocket and pulled out an old snapshot. The colors were faded and bleached with time. With great care, he handed it to her.
Amelia glanced at it and momentarily lost her breath. The photo featured four people lined up together. Her grandfather, looking younger and vibrant. A younger version of Adrian’s father. And... her own parents, smiling in a way she hadn’t seen in years. They were the same parents she had lost at fourteen in that tragic car accident.
Tears came quickly to her eyes. She hadn’t seen some of these people in so many years. But a further detail made her pause.
There was a fifth person in the photo, a little boy standing near her mother. The image was not clear enough, but the features somehow seemed strangely familiar. Amelia knitted her eyebrows in confusion. Who is this?
Adrian was looking intently at the photo, his face showing how much this troubled him. “I don’t know.”
She gave him a sharp glance. It was a lie. She could tell he was surprisingly easy to read at that moment. She was ready to confront him about it, but a sudden loud noise from the upper floor distracted them both.
They looked up quickly. Another loud noise came heavy and deliberate, like someone dragging furniture around. Amelia felt like she was about to break from the tension. “There should be no person up there.”
Adrian’s eyes were sharply focused, all business now. Stay here, while I go and check.
He didn’t even wait for a response before moving swiftly into the bookstore. The noises continued from upstairs. A bang, crash, thud.
Someone was definitely on the upper floor. And this person had come back for something they hadn’t found earlier, something important that had been kept in her grandfather’s office.
- Writer
