CHAPTER TWO
1099 Words
THE MESSAGE
Vincent stared at the photograph for a long time.
He had forgotten how young he looked.
There was a small smile on his face, the kind that hardly existed anymore.
His father stood beside him.
And behind them were two people Vincent had spent years trying not to remember.
He turned the photograph over.
Ask her what happened.
His jaw tightened.
"Who sent this?"
No answer.
The hallway outside his locker was empty.
Vincent looked around.
Nothing.
He checked the envelope again.
There was no name.
No school stamp.
Nothing that could tell him where it came from.
He put the photographs back inside and closed the locker.
For a moment, he simply stood there.
Then his phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
His uncle.
Vincent answered.
"Hello."
"Where are you?"
"School."
A pause.
"You should come home."
Vincent leaned against the locker.
"Why?"
"Your father wants to see you."
"About what?"
"Just come home, Vincent."
His uncle ended the call.
Vincent stared at the phone.
That was strange.
His uncle never called him unless there was a reason.
And now, within the same hour, he had received an old photograph and a strange message.
Something wasn't right.
He put the envelope into his jacket.
Then he walked away.
Lila sat alone in the library.
She had been reading the same page for almost ten minutes.
She couldn't concentrate.
Her mind kept going back to the strange man she'd met earlier.
Vincent.
She didn't know why she was thinking about him.
Maybe it was because everyone seemed to know his name.
Maybe it was because of the way people looked at him.
Or maybe it was because, for one strange second, she felt like he had looked at her as if he knew her.
Which was impossible.
They had never met before.
"Lila."
She looked up.
Mia stood beside the table.
"You've been staring at that page forever."
"I'm reading."
"No, you're not."
Lila smiled.
"Maybe I'm thinking."
"About Vincent?"
Lila's smile disappeared.
"No."
Mia pulled out the chair.
"You answered too quickly."
"I don't even know him."
"Exactly."
Mia opened her notebook.
"That's why I'm warning you."
"Why does everyone keep warning me about him?"
Mia looked at her.
"You really don't know?"
"Know what?"
Mia lowered her voice.
"His family."
Lila waited.
Mia looked around before continuing.
"Kane Group owns half the businesses in this city."
"So?"
"So Vincent doesn't live like us."
Lila smiled.
"I noticed."
"I'm serious."
"So am I."
Mia sighed.
"You're impossible."
Lila laughed.
For a moment, everything felt normal.
Then her phone vibrated.
She checked the screen.
Brian.
She answered.
"Hello?"
"Where are you?"
"Library."
"Who are you with?"
Lila frowned.
"Why?"
"Just answer me."
"I'm with Mia."
There was silence.
Then Brian said,
"Come home."
"Again?"
"Yes."
"I still have work to do."
"Do it at home."
Lila leaned back.
"Brian, you're acting strange."
"I'm fine."
"You always say that when you're not."
"I'll come get you."
"You don't have to."
"I said I'll come."
The call ended.
Lila stared at her phone.
Mia watched her.
"Everything okay?"
"I don't know."
Outside the library, someone stood near the entrance.
He wasn't looking at the students.
He was looking at Lila.
He watched as she packed her books.
Then he turned away before she could notice.
Brian arrived twenty minutes later.
Lila walked toward the car.
Before opening the door, she noticed his face.
He looked tired.
Not normal tired.
The kind that came from not sleeping.
"You okay?" she asked.
"Get in."
She did.
For several minutes, neither of them spoke.
Lila watched the city pass through the window.
Then she noticed something.
"Brian."
"What?"
"Why are you looking in the mirror?"
He didn't answer.
Lila turned around.
A dark car was behind them.
It had been there since they left the college.
She looked at Brian.
"Do you know that car?"
His eyes met hers in the mirror.
"No."
But his voice told her otherwise.
He stepped on the accelerator.
The car behind them did the same.
Lila's stomach tightened.
"Brian..."
"Don't worry."
"You said you don't know them."
"I said don't worry."
He made a sharp turn.
The other car continued straight.
Brian slowed down.
Lila looked back.
The car was gone.
She turned toward her brother.
"What was that?"
"Nothing."
"That wasn't nothing."
Brian said nothing.
Lila studied his face.
She knew her brother.
Something had happened.
She just didn't know what.
Across town, Vincent walked into the Kane mansion.
The house was quiet.
Too quiet.
He found his uncle standing in the study.
His back was turned.
"You wanted to see me?"
The older man slowly turned around.
"Yes."
Vincent walked inside.
His uncle looked at him carefully.
"Where were you?"
"School."
"You went back?"
"Yes."
His uncle nodded.
Then his eyes dropped to Vincent's jacket.
For a second, his face changed.
Vincent noticed.
"What?"
"Nothing."
Vincent stared at him.
His uncle looked away.
"Your father is upstairs."
"I'll see him later."
"You should see him now."
Vincent didn't move.
"Why?"
His uncle looked at him again.
"Because he received a call this afternoon."
Vincent's expression hardened.
"What kind of call?"
His uncle didn't answer.
Instead, he walked toward the desk.
"Someone has been asking questions."
"About what?"
Another silence.
Vincent stepped closer.
"Uncle."
His uncle looked at him.
"About the past."
Vincent's eyes narrowed.
"What past?"
His uncle said nothing.
Then Vincent noticed something on the desk.
A photograph.
The same photograph he had found in his locker.
But this one was older.
And there was something written across the bottom.
A date.
Vincent picked it up.
His uncle immediately reached for it.
"Don't."
Vincent stopped.
The room went silent.
"Why?"
His uncle didn't answer.
Vincent stared at him.
Then he asked quietly,
"Who is looking into this?"
His uncle's face went pale.
Before he could respond, footsteps came from the hallway.
Both men turned.
Vincent's father stood at the doorway.
He looked at the photograph in Vincent's hand.
And all the color left his face.
"Where did you get that?"
Vincent didn't answer.
His father took one step into the room.
"Vincent..."
His voice shook.
"Who gave you that photograph?"
Vincent looked from his father to his uncle.
For the first time, he realized they were both afraid.
Then his father said something that made the room feel suddenly colder.
"That photograph was never supposed to exist."
Vincent stared at him.
"Why?"
His father looked toward the closed study door.
Then he whispered,
"Because everyone in it was supposed to be dead."
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