THE PHOTOGRAPH
1841 Words
Amara couldn't look away from the photograph.
Three people stood in front of Westbridge University's main building, frozen in a moment that had happened decades before she was born.
Adrian's mother.
A man she didn't recognize.
And her grandfather.
Her grandfather.
She knew that face.
She had grown up seeing him in old family albums, usually standing beside her grandmother with the same serious expression he seemed to wear in every photograph.
But she'd never seen this one.
And she'd certainly never seen him standing beside Adrian's mother.
“What is that?” Amara whispered.
Adrian didn't answer.
He stared at the photograph with an expression she'd never seen on his face before.
The usual confidence was gone.
So was the teasing smile.
He looked almost afraid.
Noah noticed too.
“You know him?” he asked Amara.
She nodded slowly.
“That's my grandfather.”
Adrian finally looked at her.
“You're sure?”
Amara gave him an incredulous look.
“Pretty sure. I've spent half my childhood looking at pictures of him.”
Noah's expression changed.
“That doesn't make sense.”
“What doesn't?”
He glanced at Adrian.
Adrian said nothing.
Amara folded her arms.
“You two have been doing that since I met you.”
“Doing what?” Noah asked.
“Talking like there's an entire conversation happening in your heads and I'm somehow not invited.”
Adrian looked down at the photograph again.
“Where did you get this?”
Noah held up his phone.
“Unknown number. Five minutes ago.”
“Anything else?”
“No.”
Adrian took the phone from him and studied the photograph.
Amara watched his face.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
She sighed.
“Adrian.”
He looked at her.
“That answer is becoming really annoying.”
“I'm aware.”
“You know something.”
“Yes.”
Her stomach tightened.
“What?”
He hesitated.
“Not here.”
Amara glanced around the library.
Students were still moving between the shelves, completely unaware of the conversation taking place.
“Then where?”
“My apartment.”
She stared at him.
“You're inviting me to your apartment after knowing me for two days?”
“I'm trying to explain something.”
“That's somehow worse.”
A faint smile touched his lips.
“You're impossible.”
“So I've been told.”
His smile disappeared.
“Someone is watching you.”
The words instantly erased hers.
“What?”
“I've received messages too.”
“About me?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“A few days.”
“And you didn't tell me?”
“I didn't know if they were serious.”
Amara laughed once, without humor.
“Someone sends you threats about me and you decide to keep it to yourself?”
“I didn't know who was sending them.”
“You could have told me.”
“I know.”
The quiet admission surprised her.
Adrian looked genuinely regretful.
“I didn't want you involved.”
Amara's eyes narrowed.
“I'm already involved.”
He had no answer to that.
---
Adrian's apartment was in one of the university's private residences.
The moment Amara stepped inside, she stopped.
“This is student housing?”
Adrian glanced over his shoulder.
“Yes.”
“Your definition of student housing is very different from mine.”
He smiled.
“Your university residence isn't exactly terrible.”
“You haven't seen my room.”
“Maybe I should.”
She looked at him.
“Was that flirting?”
“Maybe.”
“You're shameless.”
“Probably.”
She shook her head and walked farther inside.
The apartment was quiet and modern, with large windows overlooking the university courtyard.
Everything was neat.
Almost too neat.
There were hardly any personal items lying around.
Except for one photograph.
Amara stopped in front of it.
A younger Adrian stood beside his mother.
He couldn't have been older than twelve.
His mother had one arm around his shoulders, and unlike the guarded man standing across the room, the boy in the picture looked completely carefree.
“That's her,” Adrian said.
Amara nodded.
“She looks kind.”
“She was.”
He walked over.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
“What happened?” Amara asked softly.
Adrian looked at the photograph.
“My mother disappeared twelve years ago.”
Amara's expression softened.
“You said she was investigating the Westbridge Circle.”
“She was.”
“What exactly is the Circle?”
“A secret society.”
“Like a student club?”
“No.”
The seriousness in his voice made her straighten.
“My mother believed it had influence over the university long after it was supposed to have disappeared.”
“And my grandfather?”
“She was working with him.”
Amara stared at him.
“My grandfather was involved?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't anyone tell me?”
“I don't know.”
She shook her head.
“My grandfather died seven years ago. If he was involved in something like this, why didn't he tell my family?”
“Maybe he was protecting you.”
“From what?”
Adrian didn't answer.
Instead, he walked to a cabinet and pulled out a small black box.
He placed it on the table.
“This belonged to my mother.”
Amara leaned closer.
A strange symbol was engraved on the bottom.
A circle crossed by three lines.
Her eyes widened.
“I know that.”
Adrian looked at her.
“Where?”
“My grandfather had it on an old silver watch.”
“You're sure?”
“Yes.”
Adrian stared at the symbol.
Then he opened the box.
Inside was a folded piece of paper.
He unfolded it carefully.
It was a list of names.
Professors.
Students.
Alumni.
Some had been crossed out.
Others had circles around them.
Near the bottom were two names.
Evelyn Come.
Thomas Bennett.
Adrian's mother.
Amara's grandfather.
Her breath caught.
“He knew her.”
“They were working together.”
“For how long?”
“I don't know.”
“What were they investigating?”
“The Circle.”
“Why?”
“My mother thought someone inside the university was helping them.”
Amara picked up the paper.
There was writing on the back.
She turned it over.
One sentence.
IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO US, KEEP THEM APART.
She frowned.
“Keep who apart?”
Adrian didn't answer.
“Adrian.”
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“I genuinely don't know.”
She studied him.
He looked serious.
Before she could question him further, someone knocked on the door.
Three quick knocks.
Adrian's expression changed.
“Who is it?”
“Noah.”
Adrian opened the door.
Noah stepped inside.
“We have a problem.”
“What happened?”
Noah looked at Amara.
“He followed you.”
Amara frowned.
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
Adrian's voice hardened.
“Explain.”
“I saw someone outside the library. Dark jacket. Cap. He disappeared before I could get close.”
“When?”
“About twenty minutes ago.”
Adrian looked at Amara.
“Did you see anyone?”
She hesitated.
Then nodded.
“Last night.”
“Where?”
“Outside my residence.”
Noah's face tightened.
“Did you tell anyone?”
“No.”
Adrian exhaled.
“You should have.”
“I didn't know what it meant.”
“It means someone is watching you.”
“I know that now.”
Noah pulled out his phone.
“This was sent to me five minutes ago.”
He showed them a photograph.
Amara's blood ran cold.
It was her.
Standing outside her residence that morning.
The timestamp read 8 :17 a.m.
“That was today.”
Noah nodded.
“Look behind her.”
He zoomed in.
A figure stood partially hidden behind a tree.
Amara recognized the jacket immediately.
“That’s him.”
Adrian's voice became quiet.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Noah looked at Adrian.
“They know where she lives.”
Adrian's expression hardened.
“We're changing that.”
Amara crossed her arms.
“No.”
Both boys looked at her.
“You're not deciding where I live.”
“Amara—”
“No. I'm done being treated like a problem that needs to be moved around.”
Adrian stared at her.
Then he nodded.
“Fine.”
She blinked.
“Fine?”
“You're right.”
Noah looked at him as if he couldn't believe what he'd just heard.
Adrian ignored him.
“But you're not walking anywhere alone.”
Amara rolled her eyes.
“That's still an order.”
“It's a suggestion.”
“It's a terrible one.”
“It's the safest one.”
She looked at him.
“You're really annoying.”
“So you've said.”
A small smile appeared on his face.
Despite everything, she found herself smiling too.
Then her phone vibrated.
The smile vanished.
Unknown number.
One new message.
ASK YOUR GRANDFATHER'S BEST FRIEND.
Amara stared.
“My grandfather's best friend.”
Adrian looked at her.
“Who?”
“Professor Daniel Hayes.”
Noah's eyes widened.
“The dean?”
Amara nodded.
“He's been here for decades.”
Adrian's expression became thoughtful.
“Then we need to talk to him.”
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
“Because whoever sent this wants us to.”
Adrian studied her.
“You're right.”
Amara raised an eyebrow.
“That's twice today.”
“Don't get used to it.”
She smiled.
Then every light in the apartment went out.
Darkness swallowed the room.
Noah immediately reached for his phone.
“No signal.”
Adrian moved toward Amara.
“Stay away from the windows.”
Her heartbeat quickened.
“What is happening?”
“I don't know.”
A sound came from the hallway.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Measured.
Getting closer.
Amara instinctively stepped closer to Adrian.
He noticed.
Neither mentioned it.
The footsteps stopped outside the apartment.
Three knocks.
knock.
knock.
knock.
Nobody moved.
Then a man's voice came through the door.
“Adrian?”
Adrian froze.
Amara looked at him.
“You know him.”
He didn't answer.
The voice came again.
“It's been a long time.”
Noah whispered, “Who is that?”
Adrian's expression had gone completely blank.
Then the man spoke again.
“Your mother should have told you the truth.”
Amara's stomach tightened.
Adrian looked at her.
There was something in his eyes she'd never seen before.
Fear.
Real fear.
The doorknob slowly began to turn.
Amara held her breath.
The man outside laughed quietly.
“And now that she's gone…”
A pause.
“…it's your turn to remember.”
The lock clicked.
Adrian reached for Amara's hand.
This time, she didn't pull away.
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