The name he shouldn't know
1471 Words
The Strange Feeling
Episode 2 — The Name He Shouldn't Know
Amara barely slept that night.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the same things.
Rain.
A dark hallway.
A frightened woman.
A silver necklace.
And Adrian.
She woke up at 3:17 a.m. with her heart racing.
For a few seconds, she didn't know where she was.
Then she looked around her bedroom and slowly remembered.
The university.
The rain.
The stranger.
Adrian Cole.
Amara reached for her phone.
She searched the name.
Nothing unusual appeared at first.
There were several people named Adrian Cole, but none of them seemed connected to her.
She searched again.
Adrian Cole Nigeria.
Several results appeared.
Her eyes widened.
There was a photograph of him standing beside a group of people at what looked like a business event.
Underneath the photograph was a headline.
COLE FAMILY HEIR RETURNS TO THE CITY AFTER YEARS ABROAD.
Amara sat up.
“Family heir?”
She continued reading.
The Cole family owned one of the city's most successful private companies. Their businesses included real estate, technology, and several investment firms.
Adrian Cole was the eldest son.
Amara stared at the screen.
So he wasn't just some mysterious stranger.
He was rich.
Very rich.
She remembered the expensive car.
The confidence.
The way he spoke as though he was used to people listening to him.
But none of that explained how he knew her.
She kept scrolling.
Then she saw something that made her stop.
A photograph of an older man.
The caption read:
Richard Cole, founder of Cole Enterprises.
Amara's breath caught.
She didn't know why.
She stared at the photograph.
Something about his face felt familiar.
Not because she had met him.
Because she had seen him somewhere before.
She zoomed in.
Then she noticed the silver necklace around the woman's neck in an old photograph beside the article.
Amara froze.
The necklace.
The same necklace she had seen in her memory.
She quickly searched for photographs of Adrian's family.
There were dozens.
But she couldn't find the woman.
Then she noticed a photograph that had been uploaded years ago.
It showed Richard Cole standing beside a young woman.
Amara stared at the woman's face.
Her hands began trembling.
It was her mother.
“Elena?”
She whispered the name.
Her mother was standing beside Richard Cole.
And between them was a young Adrian.
Amara dropped the phone onto her bed.
“No.”
She picked it up again.
Maybe she was mistaken.
Maybe it was someone who looked like her mother.
But the longer she stared, the more certain she became.
That was Elena.
Her mother.
Why had her mother been photographed with the Cole family?
And why had nobody ever told her?
Amara immediately called her aunt.
The phone rang several times before the call was answered.
“Amara?”
“Aunty, I need to ask you something.”
Her aunt sounded sleepy.
“What happened?”
“Did Mum know the Cole family?”
Silence.
Amara's stomach tightened.
“Aunty?”
“Where did you hear that name?”
Amara sat upright.
“So she did know them?”
“I didn't say that.”
“You didn't have to.”
Her aunt sighed.
“Amara, some things are better left in the past.”
“Why?”
“Because your mother is gone.”
“That doesn't answer my question.”
Another silence.
Then her aunt said quietly,
“Don't ask questions about the Coles.”
The call ended.
Amara stared at the screen.
Her aunt had never spoken like that before.
Something was wrong.
The next morning, Amara arrived at campus earlier than usual.
She couldn't concentrate during her first lecture.
Her notebook remained open, but she hadn't written anything.
All she could think about was the photograph.
When the lecturer dismissed the class, her best friend, Maya, immediately noticed.
“You look terrible.”
“Thanks.”
“I mean it lovingly.”
Amara smiled weakly.
Maya sat beside her.
“What happened?”
“Do you know the Cole family?”
Maya's expression changed.
“Who doesn't?”
“Do you know Adrian Cole?”
Maya's eyes widened.
“Wait. You mean that Adrian Cole?”
“You know him?”
“Not personally. Everyone knows him. His family is extremely wealthy.”
Amara lowered her voice.
“I met him last night.”
Maya stared at her.
“Where?”
“Outside the library.”
“And?”
“He knew my name.”
Maya's smile disappeared.
“What do you mean he knew your name?”
“I don't know.”
Amara showed her the photograph.
Maya stared at it.
“Is that your mother?”
“Yes.”
“Why is she with them?”
“That is what I'm trying to find out.”
Maya looked uncomfortable.
“Maybe you should leave it alone.”
“That's what my aunt said.”
“Then maybe you should listen.”
Amara shook her head.
“No.”
“Amara—”
“I've spent my entire life believing my mother abandoned me.”
She looked at the photograph again.
“If she knew this family, I deserve to know why.”
Before Maya could answer, someone walked into the cafeteria.
Adrian.
Amara's heart stopped.
He was dressed casually today, but he still carried the same intimidating presence.
His eyes immediately found hers.
Maya looked between them.
“Oh.”
Amara swallowed.
“Stay here.”
Adrian walked toward them.
“Good morning.”
Amara folded her arms.
“How did you find me?”
“I know where you study.”
“That isn't what I asked.”
Adrian pulled out a chair.
“May I sit?”
“No.”
Maya quietly stood up.
“I suddenly remembered I have somewhere to be.”
Amara glared at her.
“Maya.”
“Sorry.”
She disappeared.
Adrian sat down anyway.
Amara stared at him.
“You lied to me.”
“I didn't lie.”
“You knew my mother.”
His expression changed.
“Who told you?”
“So you admit it?”
Adrian looked away.
“Your mother and my family knew each other.”
“How?”
“That isn't a simple answer.”
“Then give me the complicated one.”
He looked back at her.
“Your mother was involved with my father's company.”
“Doing what?”
“I don't know everything.”
“Then why were you looking for me?”
Adrian remained silent.
Amara's anger grew.
“You found me because of my mother.”
“Yes.”
The honesty surprised her.
“What do you want from me?”
“Answers.”
“I don't have any.”
“You might.”
“How?”
“Because you were there.”
Amara's face went pale.
“Where?”
Adrian leaned closer.
“The night your mother disappeared.”
Her heart stopped.
“What did you just say?”
“You were there.”
“No.”
“You were young. You may not remember.”
Amara pushed her chair backward.
“Stop.”
“Amara—”
“I don't remember that night.”
“I know.”
“How would you know?”
Adrian's eyes softened.
“Because I've spent years trying to find out what happened.”
Amara stood.
“Why?”
“Because my father died believing your mother betrayed him.”
“And did she?”
“No.”
The answer came immediately.
Amara stared at him.
“Then what happened?”
Adrian looked around the crowded cafeteria before lowering his voice.
“Someone wanted her gone.”
“Who?”
“I don't know yet.”
“Then find out.”
“I am trying.”
He stood.
“And that's why I need you.”
Amara shook her head.
“I can't help you.”
“You already are.”
He walked away.
Amara watched him leave.
Then she noticed something on the table.
A small envelope.
Her name was written across it.
She opened it with trembling fingers.
Inside was a photograph.
It was old.
The edges were worn.
Amara looked at it.
Her mother was standing in front of a large house.
Beside her stood Richard Cole.
But that wasn't what frightened Amara.
A little girl stood behind them.
The little girl was holding the silver necklace.
Amara.
On the back of the photograph was a handwritten message.
You were never supposed to remember.
Amara's hands began shaking.
She looked toward the cafeteria entrance.
Adrian was gone.
And for the first time, she understood something terrifying.
Someone else knew about her memories.
Someone had been watching her.
And they didn't want her to remember the truth.
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