Chapter 3 – Escape and Secrets
641 Words
Valerie set out to leave the city, "I'll be much safer somewhere else", not wanting anyone to know about her where abouts.. she left a note for her Dad and friends.. at the early hours of the morning she got the tickets for the train she had booked a week ago.. The train station was nearly deserted when she arrived. The early morning fog curled around the tracks. She handed her ticket to the conductor.
"Valerie Jordan, your seat number" he muttered, pointing at the end of the coach.
"Thank you", she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. As the train began to move, she looked out one last time at the city that held all her memories.. good and bad. Her childhood, her mum.. "Goodbye, Father," she murmured.
As the train pulled away from the platform, Valerie leaned against the window, her fingers clutching the small pendant around her neck..her mother’s. It had always felt ordinary… until the night of the attack, when the man in black had paused and stared at it like it meant something.
She pulled out her notepad, flipping through scribbled drawings and old diary entries. One note stood out:
“Trust no one. Not even him.”
It was her mother’s handwriting. A chill crept down her spine..When had she written this? And who was “him”?
The train slowed at a small town hours away. Valerie stepped out, careful not to draw attention. Her plan was simple..start over, stay hidden, find answers. But fate had other plans.
After several hours, the train slowed at a sleepy town far from the city. Valerie stepped off, keeping her head low. She made her way to a small inn she had found online days ago. The woman at the reception was kind, but the man standing beside her..perhaps her son..watched Valerie a little too closely. His gaze lingered, as if trying to remember something.
Valerie offered a nervous smile and signed the register. “Room 3, up the stairs,” the woman said warmly.
That night, she lay on the bed staring at the ceiling, the events of the past weeks swirling in her mind. She didn’t feel safe, not yet. Something was wrong.
Unable to fall asleep, she pulled out a stack of newspapers she had picked up on the street earlier that day..circles drawn around job listings in the margins. The little money she had saved would barely cover her stay at the inn for a week, maybe less if she had to eat twice a day. With a deep sigh, she grabbed her pen again and marked a few more promising ads.
The next morning, she stuffed all she needed to get started in a small bag, tied her hair back, and stepped out into the unfamiliar town. The sun was already high, casting long shadows across the quiet streets. She stopped at several small restaurants, corner food stores, and even a laundromat, asking the same question each time, “Are you hiring?”
Most shook their heads politely. Some didn’t even look up.
At a tiny sandwich shop near the end of the street, the owner..a kind-faced woman in her fifties..hesitated. “You ever worked behind a counter before?” she asked.
Valerie shook her head. “No, ma’am. But I learn fast.”
The woman studied her for a moment and finally gave a small nod. “Come in tomorrow. 8 AM. We’ll see how you do.”
It wasn’t much, but it was something.
That evening, back at the inn, she curled up on the bed with a warm cup of tea the receptionist had offered her for free. But even as her muscles ached and her eyes grew heavy, her mind wandered back to the scribbles on her note pad
"Trust no one. Not even him"
- Writer
