A FILE THAT SHOULDN'T EXIST
1664 Words
Elena did not touch the newspaper again.
She stood behind her desk with the folder pressed against her stomach, staring at Adrian's empty office through the glass. The lights inside were still on. His chair was turned slightly toward the window, and a thin stack of papers sat neatly arranged on the desk. Everything looked exactly as it had when she'd left the office less than an hour ago.
Except Adrian was gone.
She looked down at the clipping in her hand.
The date printed beneath the headline was unmistakable.
Tomorrow.
She checked her phone.
Monday, 7:03 p.m.
Her eyes returned to the newspaper.
Tuesday's date.
For several seconds, she simply stared.
Then she laughed once.
It wasn't because anything was funny.
It was the nervous sound that escaped when her brain couldn't decide what else to do.
"Okay."
She placed the newspaper on her desk.
There had to be an explanation.
Someone had printed the wrong date.
Someone had deliberately changed it.
The folder had been planted as a prank.
Maybe the company was testing new employees.
Maybe she had misread the date.
Elena picked up the newspaper again.
She hadn't.
The date was still there.
She flipped it over.
Nothing.
She checked the other documents in the folder. They all appeared old, some yellowed around the edges. One contained a list of employees from years ago. Another was a report concerning a security incident at Vespera. A third was almost completely covered in handwritten notes.
She turned another page.
The handwriting stopped her.
She knew it.
Not because she'd seen it often, but because she'd seen it only a few hours ago.
Adrian's handwriting.
The same narrow letters. The same sharp strokes.
At the top of the page were three words.
DO NOT OPEN IT.
Elena frowned.
"Open what?"
A sound came from the corridor.
She immediately stopped.
Footsteps.
One.
Two.
Three.
Someone was approaching.
She closed the folder.
The footsteps grew louder.
Elena looked toward the elevator.
Nothing.
She looked toward the executive corridor.
Nothing.
The sound stopped outside the glass doors.
Her heart began beating faster.
A shadow passed across the frosted glass.
Elena stepped away from her desk.
The door opened.
Adrian walked in.
He looked exactly as he had earlier, except his tie was slightly loose and his expression was considerably colder.
His gaze went straight to the folder.
Then to Elena.
"What are you doing?"
Elena swallowed.
"I found this."
"I can see that."
He crossed the room.
She held the folder out.
He didn't take it.
"Where?"
"My desk."
"Who gave it to you?"
"I don't know."
"Did you open it?"
Elena hesitated.
Adrian's eyes narrowed.
"Yes."
His jaw tightened.
"How much?"
"Enough to know that you're dead."
Silence settled over the office.
Elena immediately regretted saying it so bluntly.
Adrian didn't react.
He simply reached for the folder.
This time, she gave it to him.
He opened it, scanned the contents, and stopped when he reached the newspaper.
For the first time since Elena had met him, his composure cracked.
It lasted barely a second.
But she saw it.
He looked at the date.
Then at Elena.
"Where did you get this?"
"It was inside the folder."
"Who else saw it?"
"No one."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
He closed the folder.
Elena folded her arms.
"Are you going to tell me what's going on?"
"No."
The answer came immediately.
She stared at him.
"You know, normal bosses usually explain things when their employees find newspaper articles saying they're dead."
"I'm aware."
"Then why aren't you?"
"Because there are things you are better off not knowing."
Elena gave a humorless laugh.
"That sounds like something people say right before things get worse."
"They usually do."
He placed the folder on his desk.
Elena watched him carefully.
"Are you actually Adrian Vale?"
His eyes met hers.
"Yes."
"The man who died sixteen years ago?"
A long pause.
"Yes."
Her mouth went dry.
She had expected him to deny it.
To laugh.
To tell her the article was about someone else.
He hadn't.
Elena took a step backward.
"So you're..."
She couldn't finish.
Adrian looked away.
"Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Give me a name you don't understand."
The room felt colder.
Elena rubbed her arms.
"Then what am I supposed to call you?"
"My name will do."
She stared at him.
There was something deeply wrong with this conversation.
Not just because Adrian was apparently admitting to being a dead man.
It was the way he said it.
No hesitation.
No embarrassment.
No attempt to convince her otherwise.
As if his death were simply an inconvenient fact.
Elena looked at the newspaper again.
"If you're dead, why are you here?"
Adrian's expression hardened.
"Go home."
"That's not an answer."
"It is the only answer you're getting tonight."
He moved toward the door.
Elena followed.
"Wait."
He stopped.
She noticed something on his wrist.
A watch.
Old-fashioned.
The glass was cracked.
She remembered seeing it in the photograph.
The same watch.
Sixteen years old.
Still on his wrist.
"Adrian."
He looked over his shoulder.
"Your watch."
His gaze dropped to it.
For a moment, something unreadable passed over his face.
Then he covered it with his sleeve.
"Go home, Elena."
He opened the door.
The lights in the corridor flickered.
Elena stepped outside.
The folder remained on his desk.
She turned back.
"I'll be back tomorrow."
Adrian's expression changed.
"No."
She frowned.
"I work here."
"Then find another job."
He closed the door.
Elena stood in the corridor.
She stared at the wooden surface for several seconds before walking away.
The elevator was waiting when she reached it.
She pressed the button.
The doors opened.
She stepped inside.
Before they closed, she glanced toward the executive corridor.
Adrian's office door remained shut.
She pressed the lobby button.
The elevator began descending.
Three floors down, it stopped.
Elena frowned.
The doors opened.
Nobody was there.
She pressed the button again.
Nothing happened.
The doors remained open.
"Come on."
She pressed it twice more.
Still nothing.
The fluorescent light above her flickered.
Elena looked at the floor indicator.
10
Her stomach tightened.
She was supposed to be going down.
The elevator had stopped at the tenth floor.
She looked at the corridor outside.
It was dark.
She could see her own reflection in the elevator doors.
Behind her reflection was the empty elevator.
For some reason, she couldn't shake the feeling that she shouldn't step outside.
The doors finally closed.
The elevator continued downward.
Elena released a breath.
She reached the lobby.
Clara was still at reception.
Elena slowed.
"You're still here?"
Clara looked up.
"Sometimes."
"It's almost seven thirty."
"I know."
Elena glanced toward the entrance.
The lobby was nearly empty now.
"You work late often?"
Clara smiled.
"Sometimes."
That word again.
Elena looked at the clock behind her.
7:26.
She remembered the company's instruction.
Leave before eleven.
That suddenly seemed far less strange than it had earlier.
She headed toward the doors.
"Elena."
She stopped.
Clara's voice had changed.
The friendliness was gone.
"Yes?"
"Did you find anything upstairs?"
Elena stared at her.
"Why?"
Clara lowered her eyes to the desk.
"I was just asking."
"Then no."
It was a lie.
Clara seemed to know.
Her fingers tightened around her pen.
"Good."
Elena waited for an explanation.
None came.
She walked out.
The rain had stopped.
The city was bright with headlights and streetlights, the wet pavement reflecting everything in broken pieces. Elena stood outside Vespera for a moment, looking back at the building.
From here, it looked completely ordinary.
Office lights.
Glass windows.
People moving behind them.
Nothing supernatural.
Nothing impossible.
She reached into her bag for her phone.
A message waited from Maya.
Maya: Are you coming?
Elena typed:
Elena: I'm on my way.
She hesitated.
Then added:
Elena: I have a lot to tell you.
She put the phone away.
Halfway down the street, she stopped.
Something had caught her attention.
One of the upper windows of Vespera was lit.
The executive floor.
A figure stood behind the glass.
Elena couldn't see the face clearly.
But she knew who it was.
Adrian.
She watched the figure for several seconds.
Then the lights went out.
Elena turned and continued walking.
She didn't look back.
Not until she reached the corner.
When she did, the entire executive floor was dark.
Except for one window.
A single light burned behind the glass.
And beneath it, barely visible from the street, stood someone who looked exactly like Adrian Vale.
He wasn't watching the city.
He was watching her.
---
By the time Elena reached Maya's apartment, the questions had multiplied.
Maya opened the door wearing an oversized shirt and carrying a bowl of popcorn.
"You look terrible."
"Thanks."
"I meant emotionally."
"Still thanks."
Elena walked inside.
Maya shut the door behind her.
"Sit."
Elena dropped her bag onto the sofa.
For the next twenty minutes, she told her everything.
The photograph.
Adrian.
The folder.
The newspaper.
The date.
The conversation.
Maya listened without interrupting.
That alone told Elena how serious the story sounded.
When she finished, Maya remained silent.
"Say something."
Maya put the popcorn down.
"Okay."
Elena waited.
"You're quitting."
"No."
"You're absolutely quitting."
"No."
"Elena."
"I need this job."
Maya stared at her.
"Your boss is a dead man."
"I know."
"You found a newspaper saying he died sixteen years ago."
"I know."
"And you're planning to go back tomorrow."
"Yes."
Maya shook her head slowly.
"You're insane."
"Probably."
Maya leaned back.
"Then at least promise me something."
"What?"
"If anything strange happens tomorrow, you call me."
Elena nodded.
"Fine."
"And you leave."
"Fine."
Maya narrowed her eyes.
"You promise?"
Elena smiled faintly.
"I promise."
She didn't know then that by the following night, leaving would no longer be as simple as walking through the front doors.
And she certainly didn't know that the rules she'd laughed about that morning would soon become the only thing keeping her alive.
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