The passport
780 Words
Episode 2: The Passport
The note was damp, the ink blurred by river water.
Nadia unfolded it with trembling fingers.
Inside were only six words:
“If I die, trust no one.”
No signature.
No explanation.
Nothing else.
A cold shiver crept down her spine.
Before she could read it again, a nurse called everyone in the shelter to the television.
The news had become national headlines.
“Authorities have officially confirmed the death of philanthropist Vivian Cole after yesterday’s ferry disaster. Rescue teams have recovered several bodies, though some passengers remain missing. The Cole family has requested privacy during this difficult time.”
A large portrait of Vivian filled the screen.
The same face.
The same woman whose handbag now rested on Nadia’s lap.
Nadia quickly zipped the bag shut.
She couldn’t explain why, but something inside her whispered that she should tell no one.
⸻
That night, sleep refused to come.
The shelter was crowded with survivors and grieving families. Children cried in their sleep. Volunteers moved quietly between rows of blankets.
Nadia stared at the ceiling.
She remembered the eviction notice.
The unpaid bills.
The landlord’s threats.
Her empty apartment.
She reached into the handbag again.
There was far more money than she had ever seen in her life.
Enough to pay every debt.
Enough to start over.
Then her fingers brushed against the small silver key.
Attached to it was a tiny metal tag.
Locker 317.
No location.
No name.
Just a number.
⸻
The next morning, curiosity won.
After asking around, Nadia discovered that the ferry terminal had a secure luggage locker section.
She walked there cautiously, clutching the key in her pocket.
Locker 317 stood at the far end of the hallway.
She glanced around.
No one seemed to be watching.
Her heart pounded as she slid the key into the lock.
Click.
The door opened.
Inside sat a single black briefcase.
Nothing else.
It looked ordinary.
Too ordinary.
She carried it outside before opening it.
Inside were neatly arranged files, a laptop, a sealed envelope, and another passport.
This passport belonged to Vivian Cole too—but it was different.
The photo was the same.
The name was the same.
But the passport number didn’t match the one in Nadia’s handbag.
Two passports.
One woman.
Different identities.
“What kind of person needs two passports?” Nadia whispered.
Then she noticed the envelope.
Written across the front in elegant handwriting were the words:
ONLY OPEN IF EVERYTHING GOES WRONG.
She hesitated.
Then slowly tore it open.
Inside was a handwritten letter.
“If you’re reading this, then my plan has failed.
Someone wanted me dead.
The people closest to me cannot be trusted.
Especially…”
The sentence ended abruptly.
The bottom half of the page had been ripped away.
Nadia searched the briefcase frantically.
The missing piece wasn’t there.
⸻
As she stuffed everything back into the case, she heard footsteps behind her.
“Miss?”
She froze.
A security guard stood only a few metres away.
“That briefcase…”
He frowned.
“…where did you get it?”
Nadia forced a smile.
“It belongs to my aunt.”
The guard’s expression didn’t change.
“That’s strange.”
He slowly reached for his radio.
“Because I’ve been told to report anyone who opens Locker 317.”
⸻
Nadia’s pulse thundered.
Without thinking, she grabbed the briefcase and ran.
“Stop!” the guard shouted.
She sprinted through the crowded terminal, weaving between travelers as the guard chased after her.
She burst through the exit doors and disappeared into the busy streets.
After several frantic turns, she ducked into a narrow alley and pressed herself against a wall, gasping for breath.
The guard’s footsteps faded.
She was safe.
For now.
But one question echoed in her mind.
Who had been watching Locker 317?
⸻
That evening, exhausted, Nadia returned to her apartment to collect the last of her belongings before the landlord threw everything out.
As she pushed open the door, she stopped.
Someone had been inside.
Her mattress had been turned over.
Her drawers emptied.
Her clothes scattered across the floor.
Nothing valuable had been taken.
It wasn’t a robbery.
Someone had been searching.
Then she heard a voice behind her.
Soft.
Calm.
Almost friendly.
“You opened the locker.”
Nadia slowly turned around.
Standing in the doorway was a man in a dark suit.
He smiled.
“But you took something that doesn’t belong to you.”
End of Episode 2.
Cliffhanger
The stranger takes one step into the apartment and quietly says:
“Now I have to decide whether to kill you… or recruit you.”
- Writer
