Chapter Five: Don't Come Back
1599 Words
Clara barely spoke on the drive home.
Adrian had offered to take her, but she refused.
She needed a little distance from him, from The Nocturne and from everything that had happened over the past few days.
Her own car felt safer.
At least, that was what she kept telling herself.
The streets were busy, but Clara hardly noticed the traffic around her. Her mind was stuck on one sentence.
The invitation wasn't sent from The Nocturne.
If Adrian was telling the truth, someone else had wanted her there.
Someone had known her name.
Someone had known enough about her to choose the anniversary of her mother's death.
And somehow, that person had managed to get an invitation into her hands without anyone at The Nocturne knowing.
Clara parked outside her apartment and sat there for a while.
She didn't immediately get out.
Her phone was still in her hand.
She looked at Adrian's number.
She could call him.
Instead, she put the phone away.
She was tired of needing him for answers.
If she was going to find out what was happening, she needed to start looking for answers herself.
Inside the apartment, she dropped her handbag onto the sofa and went straight to the bedroom.
The black envelope was still on her dressing table.
She picked it up.
Nothing about it looked different.
But now she knew it had not come from The Nocturne.
Clara turned it over several times.
There had to be something she was missing.
She examined the edges.
Nothing.
She looked inside again.
The invitation.
The silver symbol.
Nothing else.
She was about to put it down when she noticed a faint mark near the bottom of the envelope.
A tiny line.
She brought it closer to the lamp.
It looked like part of a fingerprint.
Or maybe just a smudge.
Clara sighed.
She was becoming obsessed.
She put the envelope back on the table.
Her phone rang.
Unknown number.
She stared at it.
The phone continued ringing.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Clara answered.
"Hello?"
Nobody spoke.
"Who is this?"
Silence.
Then the call ended.
Clara lowered the phone slowly.
A few seconds later, another message arrived.
Leave it alone.
She stared at the screen.
This time, she did not reply.
She went into the kitchen, poured herself a glass of water and stood there thinking.
She had two choices.
She could ignore everything.
Or she could go back to The Nocturne and find out what everyone was hiding.
The sensible part of her wanted to choose the first option.
The rest of her had already made the decision.
She picked up the invitation again.
---
The following evening, Clara returned to The Nocturne.
She almost turned around twice before reaching the entrance.
The same security guard stood at the gate.
He recognized her immediately.
"Miss Bennett."
"You remember me?"
"Yes."
Clara showed him the invitation.
"I need to speak with someone."
"Who?"
"Anyone who can answer my questions."
The guard looked uncomfortable.
"Mr. Vale is not here."
Clara hadn't asked for Adrian.
She didn't tell him that.
"I'm not looking for him."
The guard studied her for a moment.
Then he opened the gate.
"Thank you."
She drove inside.
The club was quieter than it had been the first night.
There were fewer guests, and the music was softer.
Clara walked through the entrance.
The receptionist looked up.
This time, she didn't seem surprised.
"You came back."
"Yes."
"Mr. Vale told you not to."
Clara stopped.
"He did?"
The receptionist seemed to realize she had said too much.
"I only meant—"
"Where is he?"
"I don't know."
"Is he here?"
"I haven't seen him tonight."
Clara looked around.
"Then I need to speak with someone else."
The receptionist hesitated.
"About what?"
"Evelyn Hart."
The woman's face changed.
Clara noticed immediately.
"I know she was a member here."
The receptionist lowered her voice.
"Miss Bennett, you should leave."
"That's what everyone keeps telling me."
"Because it is the safest thing."
"For who?"
The woman didn't answer.
Clara leaned slightly toward the desk.
"Did Evelyn come here before she disappeared?"
"Yes."
"Did she know my mother?"
Silence.
That was all the answer Clara needed.
"You knew her."
"I knew of her."
"What happened to Evelyn?"
The receptionist glanced toward the hallway.
"I can't talk about that."
"Why?"
"Because I have a family."
Clara went quiet.
The woman looked genuinely frightened.
"I am not trying to cause trouble," Clara said.
"I know."
"I just want to understand why my name is connected to this place."
The receptionist's eyes widened.
"What did you say?"
Clara realized her mistake.
She had not told her about the membership record.
"I've seen documents."
The woman looked toward the hallway again.
Then she leaned closer.
"Please listen to me."
Clara waited.
"If you have seen anything with your name on it, forget about it."
"Why?"
"Because some things are better left alone."
"That's what my mother used to say."
The woman's expression softened for a moment.
Then she looked frightened again.
"Your mother knew."
"Knew what?"
Before the woman could answer, someone called her name.
"Clara."
She turned.
An older man stood near the staircase.
He was probably in his late sixties, wearing a dark suit and holding a glass in one hand.
He was staring directly at her.
Clara didn't recognize him.
The receptionist immediately stepped back.
The man approached.
"You should not be here."
Clara almost laughed.
"Do all of you have the same speech?"
His expression remained serious.
"I'm not joking."
"Neither am I."
He stopped in front of her.
"Go home."
"Why?"
"Because whoever sent that invitation wants you here for a reason."
"Who?"
"I don't know."
"Then why should I believe you?"
The man glanced at the invitation in her hand.
"Because I knew your mother."
Clara's breath caught.
"What was her name?"
"Margaret."
Hearing her mother's name from a stranger made Clara's stomach twist.
"How did you know her?"
"She used to come here."
"Adrian said that."
The man looked surprised.
"You spoke to Adrian?"
"Yes."
"Then you should listen to him."
"Why?"
The man's voice dropped.
"Because he made your mother a promise."
Clara stared at him.
"What promise?"
He looked around before answering.
"To keep you safe."
She didn't know what to say.
Her mother's name.
Adrian.
A promise.
Everything was becoming connected, but none of it made sense.
"Safe from what?"
The man looked at her.
"From this place."
Clara felt a chill run through her.
"If my mother knew this place was dangerous, why did she come here?"
The man didn't answer.
"Tell me."
He looked toward the entrance.
"She was trying to leave."
"Leave what?"
"The Nocturne."
Before Clara could ask another question, he stepped closer.
His voice became almost a whisper.
"Your mother knew something she should not have known."
"What?"
He looked directly into her eyes.
"She knew who was behind it."
"Behind what?"
He didn't answer.
Instead, he stepped away.
"You need to go."
Clara grabbed his arm.
"Wait."
He stopped.
"Who is behind what?"
The man gently removed her hand.
"I have already said too much."
Then he walked away.
Clara stood there, watching him disappear down the hallway.
She looked at the receptionist.
The woman was pale.
"Who was that?"
The receptionist didn't answer.
"Who was he?"
"Mr. Bennett."
Clara frowned.
"That's my father's name."
The receptionist looked confused.
"I'm sorry?"
Clara looked toward the hallway.
"My father's name is Bennett."
The receptionist shook her head.
"No."
She swallowed.
"That wasn't what I said."
"Then what did you say?"
The receptionist looked at Clara with something close to pity.
"His name is Mr. Black."
Clara stared at her.
"Why did you call him Bennett?"
"I didn't."
"You did."
The receptionist looked frightened.
"I said Mr. Black."
Clara looked back toward the hallway.
The man was gone.
She suddenly had the uncomfortable feeling that she had just been speaking to someone who knew far more about her family than he had any right to know.
She turned toward the entrance.
She was leaving.
This time, she meant it.
She walked outside and reached her car.
Before opening the door, she heard footsteps behind her.
She turned.
Adrian stood several feet away.
His expression was hard.
"What are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same thing."
"I came looking for answers."
"You need to stop."
Clara stared at him.
"Everyone keeps telling me that."
"Because they know something you don't."
"Then tell me."
Adrian looked at her.
"I can't."
She shook her head.
"No. You won't."
He took a step closer.
"Clara."
"Don't."
She opened her car door.
Adrian caught it before she could close it.
"Listen to me."
She looked at his hand on the door.
Then at him.
"What?"
"If you receive another invitation, don't accept it."
"Why?"
"Because the next one may not be an invitation."
Clara's expression changed.
"What does that mean?"
Adrian's eyes stayed on hers.
"It means someone is trying to bring you back here."
She slowly pulled the door from his hand.
"And if I don't come back?"
Adrian looked away for a moment.
"Then maybe they'll come to you."
Clara froze.
He stepped back.
"Go home."
This time, she did.
But as she drove away, she couldn't stop thinking about the old man's words.
Her mother had been trying to leave The Nocturne.
And someone had stopped her.
Whatever Clara had walked into, she was beginning to understand one thing.
Her mother had not simply died with secrets.
She had died because of them.
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