Chapter two:The Stranger who Knew My Name
1126 Words
The roar of the approaching engine shattered the silence of the cemetery.
Its headlights cut through the rain, sweeping across rows of weathered headstones before locking onto the freshly disturbed grave.
Isabella's heart lurched.
She tightened her grip around the folding knife hidden beneath her soaked burial dress. Every instinct screamed at her to run, but her legs felt rooted to the muddy ground.
The man standing a few feet away—Damian Cross—didn't panic.
Instead, he glanced toward the cemetery gates, his expression growing colder with every passing second.
"They're early," he muttered.
"What do you mean?" Isabella asked, her voice trembling.
Damian looked directly into her eyes.
"They shouldn't have found this place yet."
The black SUV that Damian had arrived in was still idling nearby, its engine humming softly.
The second vehicle tore through the cemetery gates without slowing.
Its tires splashed through puddles as it raced toward them.
Damian reacted instantly.
"Get in the car."
"What?"
"Now!"
"I don't even know you!"
"You don't have time to."
The second vehicle skidded to a stop less than fifty meters away.
Its doors flew open.
Three men stepped out.
They all wore black suits.
Black gloves.
Their faces were hidden beneath the shadows cast by the rain.
One of them pointed directly at Isabella.
"There she is."
The words froze the blood in her veins.
They weren't surprised.
They had been looking for her.
Damian stepped between Isabella and the approaching men.
"Get in the SUV," he repeated, never taking his eyes off them.
"I'll buy you a few seconds."
"But—"
"Trust me."
Those words echoed strangely inside her mind.
Trust no one except Damian.
The sentence written on the back of her wedding photograph flashed through her thoughts.
Was it a coincidence?
Or had someone known she would meet him?
Another shout echoed through the cemetery.
"Don't let her escape!"
The three men broke into a run.
Damian reached inside his coat.
For one terrifying moment, Isabella thought he was reaching for a weapon.
Instead, he pulled out a small metal cylinder and threw it toward the ground.
A deafening bang exploded across the cemetery.
A cloud of thick white smoke swallowed everything.
"Run!" Damian shouted.
Isabella didn't hesitate.
She sprinted toward the black SUV, slipping on the wet grass before catching herself.
Her lungs burned.
Mud splashed against her legs.
She yanked open the passenger door and climbed inside.
The interior smelled faintly of leather and coffee.
She slammed the door shut just as Damian jumped into the driver's seat.
The engine roared.
The SUV lurched forward.
Behind them, voices shouted through the smoke.
"They're leaving!"
A loud crack rang out.
Something struck the rear window.
Isabella screamed.
"They're shooting at us!"
Damian gripped the steering wheel.
"Keep your head down."
The SUV burst through the cemetery gates and onto the rain-soaked road.
For several moments neither of them spoke.
Only the sound of rain beating against the windshield filled the silence.
Isabella wrapped her arms around herself, shivering uncontrollably.
Her white burial dress was soaked with mud.
Her hands were scraped and bleeding from clawing through the earth.
She stared at them in disbelief.
Hours ago...
Someone had buried her alive.
Now strangers were trying to catch her.
None of it made sense.
Damian finally spoke.
"Are you hurt?"
She looked at him cautiously.
"I don't know."
He nodded.
"That's an honest answer."
She frowned.
"You seem awfully calm."
"I've been expecting this night for a long time."
Her heart skipped.
"You knew I was alive?"
"I knew there was a chance."
She turned toward him.
"Who are you?"
"My name is Damian Cross."
"I know your name."
"I wasn't asking that."
Silence settled between them.
Rain continued to hammer the windshield.
Finally, Damian sighed.
"I investigate people who disappear."
"What does that have to do with me?"
"You were one of them."
She stared.
"I disappeared?"
He nodded.
"Three months ago."
Her breath caught.
"Three... months?"
She remembered nothing before waking inside the coffin.
Not her home.
Not her husband.
Not even her own face until she had seen the photograph.
"You've officially been dead for six weeks," Damian continued quietly.
"Dead?"
"There was a funeral."
"I know."
"You know?"
"I woke up in the coffin."
For the first time since they had met, Damian's calm expression cracked.
His jaw tightened.
His hands gripped the steering wheel a little harder.
"So it was true," he whispered.
"What was true?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he drove onto a narrow highway leading away from the city.
Streetlights reflected off the rain-covered road.
After several minutes, he finally spoke.
"Six weeks ago, your body was identified through official records."
"But I'm here."
"Exactly."
Isabella looked down at her shaking hands.
"If I'm alive..."
She swallowed hard.
"Whose funeral did they hold?"
Damian didn't answer.
The silence itself felt like an answer.
A cold shiver ran through her body.
She looked out the side window.
The city lights slowly appeared in the distance.
Everything looked normal.
Cars.
Restaurants.
People laughing beneath umbrellas.
Meanwhile...
Her entire life had vanished.
She suddenly remembered the little girl in the photograph.
Her chest tightened.
"There was a child."
Damian glanced at her.
"What?"
"A little girl."
He remained silent.
"Who is she?"
His eyes returned to the road.
"You don't remember."
"No."
"You have amnesia."
"I figured that out already."
"It's more complicated than that."
"What do you mean?"
Damian hesitated.
"As far as the world knows..."
He paused before finishing.
"Your daughter watched your coffin being buried."
Isabella felt the air leave her lungs.
"My..."
The word caught in her throat.
"My daughter?"
Damian nodded once.
Tears blurred Isabella's vision.
She couldn't remember the child's name.
She couldn't remember her birthday.
She couldn't even remember the sound of her laugh.
Yet somehow...
Her heart already missed her.
She pressed a trembling hand against her mouth to stop herself from crying.
Damian reached into the glove compartment and handed her a clean towel.
She accepted it quietly.
After several minutes, she finally asked the question that had haunted her since the cemetery.
"Who buried me?"
Damian's expression darkened.
"I don't know."
She looked at him.
"But I intend to find out."
Before Isabella could respond, Damian's phone vibrated.
He glanced at the screen.
His face immediately lost all color.
"What is it?" Isabella asked.
Without answering, he accelerated.
The SUV surged forward.
On the screen, one message flashed in red letters.
SHE ESCAPED. FINISH THE JOB.
Damian looked in the rearview mirror.
Two black SUVs had just turned onto the highway behind them.
"They found us," he said quietly.
The vehicles behind switched on their headlights.
Then they began to close the distance.
- Writer
