The Heiress They Buried Alive

Chapter 2: Familiar Stranger

Nora's POV

Just before I pressed the elevator button to the floor where my desk was, a familiar figure came out of the elevator with the same charming eyes I have registered in my mind.

Recognition registered on his face immediately he saw me. He stopped and looked at me for a moment, I filed it away, maintaining the expression of someone who had never met him before.

“Good morning Sir” I greeted with a bow using a voice different from the one he had heard at the burial, making sure my eyeglasses were firmly in place.

“And you're?” He asked, looking at my hair and face, something shifting in his eyes.

“The new employee, software development. Have a nice day Sir” I said as I pressed the elevator.

When I glanced back, he was still watching me.

‘There is no way he recognized me with my new look.’ I assured myself.

I worked through the day with my head down. I did not join the conversations that formed naturally between desks as the floor filled up. I simply observed everyone and focused on the abandoned tasks sitting untouched in the queue for three weeks. Each one left halfway, as though whoever started them had given up.

“Hi, I'm Doren, your colleague.” I looked up to see the woman at the desk diagonal from mine, standing in front of me with her hands extended waiting for me to reciprocate.

“I'm Mira Josh but you can call me Mimi because my friends do.”

"Mira, it's nice having you onboard, let's go to the cafeteria. Every staff member is entitled to afternoon food and there's also staff quarters where you can stay in case you're coming from a far distance."

"I'm fine, thanks for the information."

“Can we be friends?” She asked with a smile on her face. If she knows what is good for her, she will keep her distance. I did not come here to make friends.

“Please, if you will excuse me, I'm very busy.” I adjusted my glasses and ignored her completely to focus on the unfinished task on the queue in the database.

At seven-thirty in the evening, when the floor had mostly emptied, I packed my bag and left.

Two buses to home. At this point I contemplated what Doren told me about staff quarters, it would be best for me.

Staff quarters would help me cut down unnecessary expenses until I was stable enough and Nora Anderson could breathe without a mask instead of hiding her face from strangers on the bus.

By the third day I had packed my belongings, luckily for me, I was given a separate room without a roommate as if they knew my mind. I could focus without distraction from any colleague.

The 24/7 power supply was a relief. I wouldn't have to battle with electricity cuts while working on my system at night.

At night I logged into the company's system and cleared four items from the unfinished task in the backlog. I updated each job status quietly without drawing attention to it.

By the end of the first week I had resolved three more, including one that I noticed two senior developers had attempted and abandoned twice, leaving a note in the shared log that read: complex cascading error, requires escalation.

I looked at it for twenty minutes, traced the chain backward to its origin point, and fixed it in just under an hour.

I simply updated the status to ‘resolved’ and closed the tab.

I told myself it didn't matter whether anyone noticed or not because I was here for one purpose, to survive, stay hidden, and gather the information I needed about my father's company and his unfinished task linked to CM. Romance was a distraction. Friendship was a liability. Visibility was a threat.

I believed all of that completely.

During the weekend I didn't step an inch outside my door. I had everything I needed. I had bought groceries the evening before. When someone knocked I didn't answer. Some of the staff had been trying to get close to me since I arrived. I had no interest in encouraging that.

Monday morning arrived.

I was deep inside a particularly stubborn piece of corrupted code when I felt it, the slight shift in the atmosphere around my desk that happens when someone is standing close behind you.

I kept my eyes on the screen.

The footsteps had been quiet. Not the hurried, distracted steps of a colleague passing through. These had been deliberate. They had stopped at my desk specifically.

"Mira Josh."

The voice was low and calm and carried the particular quality of someone who did not need to raise it to be heard.

I lifted my head.

‘You again?’ I muttered under my breath.

Clinton Moore stood beside my desk, studying me in that quiet, deliberate way of his.

His dark hair was neatly styled but slightly unsettled at the front, as though he had been running a hand through it. He wore a fitted dark shirt, no tie, sleeves rolled to the elbow.

“You remind me of someone. Are you sure we've…”

“Not at all, Sir," I cut him short.

Every nearby keyboard slowed.

"Your performance last week was outstanding," he said.

His tone was even. Simply direct, the way people speak when they have no interest in performing politeness they don't feel.

I kept my gaze lowered slightly.

"Thank you, sir."

He didn't move. I could feel him studying me.

I had quite a lot to hide.

"How long have you worked here?" he asked.

"One week, sir."

He nodded slowly. Then he stepped marginally closer to the desk, his eyes moving briefly to my screen before returning to me.

"Which tech school did you graduate from?"

The question landed like a stone in still water.

My fingers stopped above the keyboard.

The air around me suddenly felt too warm, too close. My mind moved fast and cold beneath the surface, if I named an institution he would verify it. Verification would pull Mira Josh's records.

I stood up.

"Excuse me, sir," I said, reaching for my bag. "I need to use the restroom."

I didn't wait for his response.

I crossed the floor at a pace that I hoped looked unhurried and pushed through the restroom door, locking it behind me. I leaned over the sink and turned the cold tap on and pressed my wet hands against the back of my neck.

My reflection in the mirror above the basin looked pale and tightly wound.

‘He just asked a question I never wanted to hear because it would definitely lead to other questions like my graduation year and names of tutors.’

I splashed water on my face. Once. Twice.

I straightened up. Steadied my breathing. Looked myself in the eye until the person staring back looked calm enough to be believed.

Then Doren's voice came from behind me.

"Mira."

I turned. She was leaning against the far wall with her arms folded, her curly hair pushed back from her face, watching me with the expression of someone who had been piecing something together for days.

"What is going on with you?" she asked. "You've been acting strange since your first morning."

"I'm fine."

"No." She pushed off the wall and came closer, studying my face with unashamed directness. "You're not fine. You look like someone who is running from something."

My heart tightened.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" I said, keeping my voice level.

She stared at me for a moment longer.

Then she laughed, sudden and genuine, the tension in the room dissolving around it.

"Relax, I'm not investigating you." She waved her hand. "Mr. Collins sent me. He wants us to go to Jadox Plaza across the road and pick up some finished packaging materials."

I blinked.

"The market?"

"Yes, the market. Outside. In the sun." She was already moving toward the door. "Come on."

I stood still for a moment.

Outside meant crowds. Crowds meant faces. Faces meant the possibility of a familiar face seeing me.

"Are you coming or not?" Doren called from the doorway.

I picked up my bag.

I went.

The afternoon sun outside the building was brutal and immediate. Doren groaned dramatically and shielded her eyes.

I pulled a light scarf from my bag and wrapped it loosely around my head, letting one side fall across the upper part of my face.

All thanks to the hot sun. Doren didn't even glance at it.

Jadox Plaza was directly across the road, a large modern grocery store with wide glass windows and sliding doors that parted automatically as we approached. Inside, cool air washed over us with soft background music.

I kept my head slightly angled downward as we moved through the store. My eyes tracked the floor just ahead of my feet.

We were halfway down aisle seven when Doren's voice changed.

"Mira."

Something in her tone made me look up.

"Why is that woman staring at you like that?"

I choked immediately.

My mother stood near the vegetable display ten feet ahead of us.