Chapter 5: Don't Open It
650 Words
Mara's heartbeat slammed against her ribs.
Rain blurred the parking lot outside Eleanor's office window.
But she could still see him.
A man in a black coat.
Standing beside her car.
Holding a white envelope.
Waiting.
Not moving.
Not hiding.
Waiting.
Adrian was already on his feet.
"Do you know him?" he asked.
Eleanor's face had gone pale.
"No."
But she answered too quickly.
Mara caught it.
So did Adrian.
"You know something," he said.
Eleanor straightened immediately.
"I said no."
The firmness in her voice surprised both of them.
Then she walked to her desk and picked up her phone.
"Stay here."
She left without another word.
Silence settled over the office.
The stranger outside hadn't moved.
Mara wrapped her arms around herself.
"Maybe I should call the police."
"Maybe," Adrian agreed.
Neither reached for their phones.
Because both of them knew how insane this sounded.
Dead spouses.
Matching cards.
Unknown messages.
A man with envelopes.
Who would believe them?
Adrian stepped closer to the window.
"He's looking up."
Mara joined him.
Sure enough, the stranger raised his head.
Even through the rain, she could see his smile.
Not friendly.
Not threatening.
Almost sad.
Then he lifted the envelope slightly.
As if presenting a gift.
A chill ran through her.
"Why is he smiling?" she whispered.
Adrian didn't answer.
Because the man suddenly turned.
And walked away.
Just like that.
No hurry.
No panic.
He disappeared into the rain.
Mara blinked.
"What just happened?"
"I don't know."
Neither moved for several seconds.
Finally, Adrian grabbed his coat.
"I'm going outside."
"What? No."
"He was beside your car."
"And?"
"And if he left something, we need to know."
"We?"
The word escaped before she could stop it.
Adrian paused.
His expression softened slightly.
"You're not doing this alone."
Something about those words caught her off guard.
Three years.
Three years of handling everything alone.
Bills.
Repairs.
Birthdays.
Grief.
People always offered sympathy.
Nobody offered partnership.
Before she could answer, Adrian opened the office door.
"Stay behind me."
Mara almost objected.
Almost.
But she followed him anyway.
The meeting room had grown quieter.
Several members avoided eye contact.
As though strange things happened here more often than they should.
Eleanor was nowhere in sight.
Outside, rain soaked the pavement.
The parking lot stood empty.
Except for Mara's car.
And the envelope tucked beneath the windshield wiper.
Adrian reached for it.
"Don't."
Mara's voice surprised even herself.
He looked back.
"What?"
"Don't open it."
"Why?"
"Because every time we open one, things get worse."
For a second, neither moved.
Then Adrian laughed softly.
Not because anything was funny.
Because she was right.
"Fair point."
He carefully removed the envelope and turned it over.
No names.
Nothing written outside.
"Maybe we should throw it away," Mara said.
Adrian looked at her.
"Would you?"
She opened her mouth.
Closed it.
No.
She wouldn't.
Because curiosity was stronger than fear.
And whoever had started this seemed to know that.
Adrian sighed.
"Together?"
She nodded reluctantly.
He opened the envelope.
Inside was a photograph.
Nothing else.
No words.
No notes.
Just a photograph.
Mara frowned.
Then her entire body went rigid.
Beside her, Adrian stopped breathing.
Because the picture showed four people sitting around a table.
Daniel.
Emily.
And two empty chairs.
One chair had a name card.
MARA HALE
The other read:
ADRIAN MERCER
Mara's voice barely worked.
"This isn't possible."
The picture looked old.
At least fifteen years old.
Long before she had ever met Daniel.
Long before Adrian had married Emily.
Yet their names sat there.
Waiting.
As though someone had planned for them to arrive.
Adrian turned the photograph over.
His face lost all color.
"Mara..."
She grabbed the picture.
And saw the words written on the back.
Reservation confirmed.
July 18, 2011.
Then beneath it—
in handwriting she now recognized—
Emily's handwriting.
Just four words.
Sorry we're running late.
- Writer
