Chapter two-The file
1148 Words
The car shook as we hit a bump on the wet road. My hands trembled as I held the file. It was heavier than it looked. The rain outside hit the windows like small stones, and every sound felt louder in the silence between us.
Adrian didn’t speak. His eyes stayed on the road, jaw tight, shoulders stiff. I could tell he was thinking, but I didn’t know about what.
I looked down at the file. Part of me wanted to throw it out the window, pretend none of this was real. But another part—stronger and angrier—wanted answers.
I opened it.
Inside were photos, old documents, and copies of emails. Some of the papers had my father’s signature on them. Others had Adrian’s. There were names I didn’t recognize and large sums of money written in bold print.
My stomach twisted. “What is this?”
Adrian glanced at me, then back at the road. “Proof,” he said quietly.
“Proof of what?”
He hesitated before answering. “That your father was framed. And that I helped them do it.”
His words hit me like a slap. “You what?”
He tightened his grip on the wheel. “It wasn’t supposed to go that far. I thought it was just business—just a deal to push him out of the company. But they wanted more. When your father refused to sign over the patents, they destroyed him.”
I stared at him, trying to understand. “So you’re saying you betrayed him?”
His eyes flicked toward me. “Yes. And I’ve been paying for it ever since.”
I didn’t know what to say. The man I had spent years hating was sitting right next to me, confessing. My chest ached, not from pity, but from confusion.
“Why come back now?” I asked. “Why risk everything?”
He gave a bitter smile. “Because your father wasn’t the only one they silenced. And I found out something they’re willing to kill for.”
He slowed the car, turning into an empty road lined with tall trees. The rain had eased to a drizzle, but thunder still rolled somewhere far away.
He parked the car and turned to face me. “Look at the second envelope in the file,” he said.
I pulled it out. It was small, sealed with tape. My fingers shook as I tore it open. Inside was a photograph—an old one.
It was my father, standing next to a group of men in suits. And right in the middle was Adrian. But behind them, barely visible, was another man. His face was blurry, but I recognized the pin on his jacket. It was the same logo that appeared on every government contract my father once managed.
“What is this?” I whispered.
“That,” Adrian said quietly, “is the man who ordered your father’s death.”
My throat went dry. “Who is he?”
Adrian hesitated, then said, “The current Secretary of Finance.”
I blinked, not believing what I just heard. “You’re saying a government official had my father killed?”
“Yes,” he said simply. “Your father found out they were moving money through his company—illegal transfers, off-the-record deals. He was going to expose them. That’s why they made it look like suicide.”
The words made my skin crawl. I wanted to scream, but nothing came out. Everything I believed was gone.
“And now,” Adrian added, his voice low, “they think you know something.”
I looked down at the photo again, my father’s smile frozen in time. “Why didn’t you go to the police?”
He let out a short laugh, one without humor. “The police work for them, Celeste. The only reason I’m still alive is because I disappeared before they could find me.”
He leaned closer. “And now that they know I came back for you, they’ll come harder.”
A chill ran through me. “Then why bring me into this? You could’ve stayed hidden.”
“Because your father trusted you,” he said. “He left something behind—something only you can unlock.”
My pulse quickened. “What do you mean?”
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small silver key. “This was found in his desk drawer the day after he died. It doesn’t open anything in his office. But there’s one place left—his old storage unit outside the city.”
I stared at the key. It looked ordinary, but something about it made my chest tighten. “What’s in the storage unit?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “But whatever it is, they’re afraid of it.”
The sound of an engine in the distance made him turn sharply. Headlights flashed in the rearview mirror.
“They found us,” he said.
Before I could speak, he started the car again, pressing hard on the accelerator. The tires screeched as we sped down the empty road. My heart pounded against my ribs.
“Hold on,” Adrian said. “We’re not safe yet.”
The car behind us was getting closer, its headlights bright and blinding. Rain started again, harder this time. The road twisted, and Adrian’s hands gripped the wheel tight.
“Adrian—”
“I see them!” he shouted.
Gunshots shattered the quiet night. The back window exploded. I ducked down, covering my head. Adrian swerved, trying to lose them.
“Stay down!” he yelled.
The car behind us rammed into ours. Metal screamed against metal. Adrian cursed under his breath and turned sharply, heading toward a dirt path that cut through the woods.
Branches hit the windshield. Mud splashed. My hands clutched the seat. I could barely breathe.
Another shot. Then another.
And then—silence.
The other car was gone.
Adrian slowed down, pulling to the side. The rain softened to a whisper again. We both sat there, breathing hard, hearts pounding.
He turned to me, his voice low but steady. “Now you understand why I came back.”
I looked at him, still shaking. “You just put my life in danger.”
He nodded slowly. “I did. But it was already in danger before I showed up.”
I wanted to yell at him, to blame him for everything. But all I could do was stare at the silver key in my hand.
“What happens now?” I asked.
He started the car again, eyes dark with determination. “Now,” he said, “we find out what your father died to protect.”
He pressed on the gas, and the car disappeared into the night.
- Writer
