Possible Chapter Four The Photograph
205 Words
The safehouse door groaned shut behind them, heavy as a vault. Inside smelled of cedar and rain-damp stone. Bare walls, a single leather chair, maps pinned with crimson tacks an organised ghost’s life.
While Nico checks the windows, Leila drifts to a dusty bookshelf.
Among the scattered files lies a faded black-and-white photograph.
Her grandmother, smiling.
Younger, but unmistakable.
Leila’s breath catches. “Where did you get this?”
Nico turns, frowning. “What?”
She holds it up. “That’s my grandmother. Why is she here?”
His eyes darken. “That photo came from my father’s private collection. She was…an associate. Years ago.”
A dozen questions roar through her mind her grandmother’s half-told stories of “old London friends,” the letters in a language she never translated.
Before Nico can explain, the building lights flicker.
A low hum vibrates through the floorboards.
“They found us,” he murmurs.
The stairwell rattled with distant footsteps too heavy, too many.
Nico’s eyes flashed silver in the dim light. “They’re inside.”
Leila clutched the photograph to her chest. “What do they want?”
“You,” he said quietly. “Or me. Or both. Doesn’t matter which comes first.”
- Writer
