Before Midnight
1712 Words
The photograph wouldn't leave my mind.
Evelyn Blackwood was alive.
My mother was alive.
And somewhere between those two impossible truths was a man who had supposedly killed Evelyn without leaving a body behind.
I stared at the photograph on my phone.
The man's face had been scratched out.
“Who is he?” I asked.
My father looked away.
“Dad.”
“I don't know.”
Adrian's voice was dangerously quiet.
“You know exactly who he is.”
My father looked at him.
“No. I know who he worked for.”
Adrian stepped closer.
“Who?”
My father hesitated.
Then whispered, “Your father.”
Silence.
Adrian's expression changed.
“My father?”
“Yes.”
“What did he do?”
My father shook his head.
“Not here.”
Adrian's eyes narrowed.
“Then where?”
My father looked toward the windows.
“Somewhere we're not being watched.”
I glanced at Adrian.
He understood immediately.
“Mrs. Collins.”
She appeared from the hallway.
“Yes, Mr. Blackwood?”
“Take him upstairs. Lock the bedroom door.”
My father frowned.
“I don't need a babysitter.”
Adrian ignored him.
“Do it.”
Mrs. Collins helped my father upstairs.
I watched them disappear.
Then turned toward Adrian.
“We're going.”
“No.”
I stared at him.
“You agreed.”
“I agreed to investigate. I didn't agree to walk into a trap at midnight.”
“You said we'd go together.”
“Together doesn't mean recklessly.”
I folded my arms.
“You're scared.”
His eyes snapped toward mine.
“Careful.”
“You are.”
He walked toward me.
I didn't move.
“I'm not afraid of a woman hiding behind photographs.”
“Then why aren't we going?”
“Because I don't know who sent the message.”
“Neither do I.”
“Exactly.”
I sighed.
“Adrian, this could be our only chance to find my mother.”
He stared at me.
“And my mother.”
The words came quietly.
I looked at him.
For the first time, I understood that this wasn't simply about my family anymore.
He had spent ten years believing his mother was dead.
Now he had a photograph suggesting she had survived.
Whatever happened tonight could change his entire life.
I softened.
“Then let's find them.”
His eyes remained on mine.
“Stay beside me.”
“I will.”
“No matter what happens.”
“I promise.”
He studied me.
Then finally nodded.
“Fine.”
At eleven thirty, we left the penthouse.
Adrian insisted on driving himself.
I sat beside him.
The city passed in a blur of lights.
Neither of us spoke for several minutes.
Then I said, “What was your mother like?”
His hands tightened around the steering wheel.
“Why?”
“Because I've spent the last few days hearing about her.”
He was quiet.
“She was kind.”
I looked at him.
He kept his eyes on the road.
“She loved people too easily.”
A faint smile appeared.
“She trusted my father when she shouldn't have.”
My heart tightened.
“Were you close?”
“Yes.”
“Very?”
Adrian swallowed.
“She was my best friend.”
I stared at him.
I'd never heard anyone describe their mother that way.
“What happened after she died?”
“I stopped trusting people.”
“Why?”
“Because everyone around me lied.”
I looked down.
“Like me.”
His eyes briefly moved toward me.
“You're different.”
“How?”
“You lie because you're trying to protect people.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“And you?”
“I lie because I don't trust people.”
I smiled faintly.
“That sounds worse.”
“It is.”
Our eyes met for a second.
The tension between us shifted.
I looked away first.
“Adrian?”
“Yes?”
“If we find my mother…”
He waited.
“What happens between us?”
His hands tightened around the wheel.
“What do you mean?”
“You hired me because of my father.”
“Yes.”
“You didn't trust me.”
“No.”
“You thought I was evidence.”
He was silent.
“And now?”
The car slowed.
He looked at me.
“Now I'm not sure what you are.”
My heart skipped.
“What does that mean?”
His gaze dropped to my lips.
“It means you've become a problem.”
I laughed softly.
“I thought I was evidence.”
“You were.”
“And now?”
His eyes returned to mine.
“Now you're Elena.”
My breath caught.
Before I could respond, his phone rang.
Adrian answered.
“Blackwood.”
A distorted voice spoke.
His expression hardened.
“I'm listening.”
I watched him.
Then his eyes moved toward me.
“She's with me.”
My stomach dropped.
He put the phone on speaker.
The voice came through.
“Good.”
I felt a chill.
“Who are you?” I demanded.
The person laughed.
“Still asking questions.”
“Where is my mother?”
“Closer than you think.”
“Where?”
“Keep driving.”
Adrian's eyes narrowed.
“What's the location?”
The caller gave an address.
I recognized it.
“That's an old hotel.”
“Yes.”
“Why there?”
“Because that's where your mothers met.”
My heart stopped.
Your mothers.
Not mother.
Mothers.
Adrian heard it too.
“What does that mean?”
The line went dead.
I stared at him.
“Your mother and mine knew each other.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“We'll find out.”
The hotel had been abandoned for years.
Adrian parked outside.
The building looked like something from a nightmare.
Broken windows.
Overgrown grass.
A faded sign hanging above the entrance.
I stared at it.
“Are you sure this is safe?”
“No.”
“Great.”
He opened his door.
I followed.
He immediately caught my hand.
I looked down.
Then up at him.
“What?”
“Stay close.”
His fingers intertwined with mine.
I stared at our hands.
He noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You're staring.”
“I'm not.”
“Liar.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Keep walking.”
His mouth twitched.
We entered the hotel.
The lobby was covered in dust.
Our footsteps echoed through the darkness.
Then a light switched on.
I froze.
Adrian moved in front of me.
A projector flickered to life.
A video appeared on the wall.
My mother.
I gasped.
“Mom?”
She looked younger.
Terrified.
She was sitting in a chair.
Then Evelyn appeared beside her.
Alive.
I stepped forward.
“What's happening?”
Adrian grabbed my arm.
“Wait.”
On the video, Evelyn looked directly into the camera.
“If you're watching this, then someone has found the archive.”
My heart pounded.
Evelyn continued.
“Adrian, if you're watching this…”
She paused.
Her expression softened.
“My son, I'm sorry.”
Adrian went completely still.
I looked at him.
He couldn't move.
“Everything your father told you about my death is a lie.”
Adrian's breathing became uneven.
Evelyn continued.
“I didn't die in the accident.”
I covered my mouth.
“I survived.”
Adrian whispered, “Mom.”
Evelyn looked away.
“But I couldn't come home.”
“Why?” I whispered.
The video continued.
“Because your father wanted me dead.”
Adrian's face hardened.
Evelyn's voice shook.
“He wasn't alone.”
The screen flickered.
My mother's face appeared.
She looked directly at the camera.
“Elena.”
My heart stopped.
“If you're watching this, I'm sorry.”
Tears filled my eyes.
“Mom…”
She continued.
“I left because I believed it was the only way to keep you alive.”
I stepped closer.
“Alive from who?”
My mother looked frightened.
“From the man who controls everything.”
The video suddenly distorted.
Adrian moved toward the projector.
“Who?”
The screen went black.
Then one final sentence appeared.
THE MAN YOU TRUST MOST IS THE MAN WHO BETRAYED US.
Adrian stared at the words.
I looked at him.
He looked at me.
Neither of us spoke.
Then we heard footsteps behind us.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Coming closer.
Adrian immediately pulled me against him.
“Who's there?”
A man's voice answered from the darkness.
“You really should have stayed away, Adrian.”
My blood turned cold.
Adrian's body stiffened.
He knew that voice.
I whispered, “Who is it?”
Adrian didn't answer.
The man stepped into the dim light.
And I recognized him from the photograph.
The face that had been scratched out.
Adrian's father.
Impossible.
Because Adrian's father had been dead for eight years.
The man smiled.
“Hello, son.”
Adrian went pale.
I couldn't breathe.
The man looked at me.
Then smiled wider.
“And you must be Elena.”
Adrian stepped in front of me.
“Stay away from her.”
His father laughed.
“Still protecting women who aren't yours?”
Adrian's fists clenched.
“What did you do to my mother?”
The man's smile disappeared.
“I gave her a choice.”
“Where is she?”
“Alive.”
Adrian's eyes widened.
“Where?”
The man looked directly at me.
“That's the interesting part.”
My stomach tightened.
He pointed toward the staircase.
“She's waiting upstairs.”
Adrian stared at him.
I grabbed his hand.
“Don't.”
He looked at me.
“We need to know.”
“It's a trap.”
“I know.”
Then his father's expression changed.
“Come upstairs, Adrian.”
He smiled.
“Your mother has been waiting ten years to see you.”
And somewhere above us, a woman's voice cried out.
“Adrian!”
His face went white.
He knew that voice.
So did I.
It was Evelyn Blackwood.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD