Seven Days Before My Wedding

Seven Days Before My Wedding - Chapter 5 — The Blue Ledger

Chapter 5 — The Blue Ledger

I didn't move.

For several minutes, I simply stared at the final message on my phone.

The ledger contains the name of the person who ordered your parents' murder.

My fingers had gone numb.

I read the sentence again.

Then I looked at the clock.

12:47 a.m.

Six days.

Six days until the wedding.

Six days until the life I remembered was supposed to end.

And somewhere inside this city was a ledger that could tell me who had ordered my parents' deaths.

I should have been terrified.

Instead, something else rose inside me.

Determination.

I opened my notebook.

At the top of a fresh page, I wrote:

THE BLUE LEDGER

Underneath it:

What I know:

1. My parents knew about illegal financial transfers.

2. Aurelia Holdings was involved.

3. Adrian and Elena are connected to Aurelia.

4. Someone altered the police report.

5. Adrian hid the original report inside the Black family archive.

6. Someone warned me about Elena.

7. The blue ledger contains the name of the person behind everything.

I stopped.

Then I added:

8. Someone knows I have returned.

That last sentence made my stomach twist.

How could anyone know?

No one knew about my second chance.

No one except me.

Unless...

I stared at the phone.

The mysterious messages.

The warning.

The ledger.

Nathan.

Daniel.

Adrian.

Elena.

There were too many possibilities.

I needed to stop thinking emotionally.

I needed facts.

I opened my laptop.

The first thing I searched was:

Blue ledger Carter Enterprises

Nothing.

I tried:

Blue ledger Black Holdings

Nothing.

Then:

Carter Black partnership ledger

Dozens of unrelated results appeared.

I sighed.

Of course.

If the ledger was as important as the mysterious person claimed, no one would call it "the blue ledger" publicly.

It would have another name.

I leaned back.

Think.

My father had always kept important documents in coded files.

What did he call his private records?

I remembered his study.

The locked cabinets.

The shelves.

The old leather folders.

Then something clicked.

When I was seventeen, I had asked my father why one of his folders was blue.

He had laughed.

"Blue means personal."

Personal.

I quickly searched through the family records stored on my computer.

There were hundreds of documents.

Financial.

Legal.

Corporate.

Insurance.

Property.

I filtered by the color-coded labels.

Blue.

Nothing.

I frowned.

Maybe it wasn't digital.

Maybe it was physical.

I looked at the clock.

1:18 a.m.

I stood.

I needed to search my father's study.

Now.

The hallway was dark.

I moved quietly.

My parents' bedroom was at the end of the corridor.

My father's study was beside it.

I unlocked the door with the spare key.

Moonlight entered through the windows.

Everything was exactly as I remembered.

The desk.

The books.

The old leather chair.

The safe behind the painting.

I walked toward it.

The painting was an old landscape.

My father had bought it twenty years ago.

I moved it aside.

The safe was still there.

I knew the combination.

My birthday.

I entered it.

The lock clicked.

I opened the safe.

Inside were several documents.

Passports.

Property deeds.

Old photographs.

A pistol.

And a small blue notebook.

My heart stopped.

I reached for it.

The cover was dark blue.

There was no title.

No label.

I opened it.

Blank.

Page after page.

Nothing.

My excitement disappeared.

It was just an old notebook.

I flipped through it again.

Still nothing.

Then I noticed something.

The pages weren't empty.

They were written in invisible ink.

I remembered my father showing me a similar trick when I was a child.

"Secrets aren't always hidden," he had told me.

"Sometimes they're simply invisible."

I ran my fingers over the pages.

There had to be a way to reveal the writing.

I searched the desk.

Nothing.

Then I remembered something.

My father always kept a bottle of lemon juice in the kitchen.

For cooking.

But also...

For secrets.

I almost laughed.

"You're unbelievable, Dad."

I went downstairs.

I found the bottle.

Then returned to the study.

I carefully brushed a small amount of lemon juice across the first page.

Slowly...

Letters began appearing.

My heart started pounding.

I leaned closer.

The words became clearer.

June 14

Today's date.

I turned the page.

Another entry.

June 15

Another.

June 16

I froze.

These were future dates.

The pages continued.

June 17.

June 18.

June 19.

June 20.

June 21.

My wedding day.

But how?

My father hadn't written these yet.

I turned back to June 14.

There was a single sentence.

If Emma discovers this, the plan has already failed.

My breath caught.

I read it again.

Then another line appeared beneath it.

She will come looking for the ledger.

My hands started shaking.

This wasn't a ledger.

It was a message.

A message written for me.

By my father.

But how could he have known?

I turned the page.

Emma,

If you are reading this, you must listen carefully.

My eyes filled with tears.

It was his handwriting.

Real.

Familiar.

The handwriting of the father who was alive upstairs in this house.

But the words had been written for a future he had not yet lived.

Do not trust Adrian.

I whispered:

"I know."

Do not trust Elena.

My heart broke.

"I know."

Do not trust anyone who tells you the accident was an accident.

I stopped breathing.

The next sentence was underlined.

Your mother's death was planned.

I covered my mouth.

Tears fell onto the page.

My mother.

I remembered her smile.

Her perfume.

Her hands.

The way she used to brush my hair before school.

She hadn't died in an accident.

She had been murdered.

I turned the page.

The person responsible is closer than you think.

My heart began pounding.

Another page.

The blue ledger is not here.

I frowned.

What?

I looked around the study.

Then continued reading.

I moved it after I realized Richard Black had discovered its existence.

My blood ran cold.

Richard.

Nathan's father.

My father had known.

If Richard asks about it, lie.

If Adrian asks, lie.

If Elena asks...

The sentence stopped.

There was no answer.

Only a dark line.

I stared at it.

Why had he stopped?

I turned the page.

Nothing.

The next page was blank.

Then another.

I flipped through the entire notebook.

Nothing else.

My father had left me half a message.

I closed my eyes.

Why?

Then I noticed something on the final page.

A small symbol.

Three circles.

One inside another.

I recognized it.

It was my father's old company seal.

But underneath it was a number.

17

I wrote it down.

Then I heard footsteps.

I froze.

Someone was walking down the hallway.

I quickly closed the notebook.

The door handle moved.

I stepped back.

The door opened.

My father stood there.

I nearly screamed.

"Emma?"

I pressed the notebook against my chest.

"You're awake?"

He looked surprised.

"What are you doing in my study?"

I couldn't answer.

His eyes moved to the notebook.

"What is that?"

I swallowed.

"I was looking for something."

He walked closer.

"At two in the morning?"

"I couldn't sleep."

He smiled.

"You've never been good at sleeping when you're worried."

I looked at him.

"Dad..."

"Yes?"

"Did you write this?"

I held up the notebook.

His expression changed.

He took it from me.

He opened it.

His face became pale.

"Where did you find this?"

"Your safe."

He looked at the pages.

Then at me.

"Emma..."

"What?"

He closed the notebook.

"Where is the rest?"

"What rest?"

"The ledger."

My heart stopped.

"You know about it."

He didn't answer.

"Dad."

He looked at the door.

Then locked it.

My pulse raced.

"Sit down."

I sat.

He remained standing.

"There are things I wanted to tell you."

"Then tell me."

"I was going to."

"When?"

"After the wedding."

I stared at him.

"Why?"

"Because I wanted you to be safe."

I laughed bitterly.

"Safe?"

He flinched.

"I know about the company."

"What?"

"Aurelia Holdings."

His face changed.

"Who told you?"

"Daniel."

"Daniel Harris?"

"Yes."

My father walked to the window.

"How much do you know?"

"Enough."

He was silent.

Then he said:

"Your mother found the first evidence."

I swallowed.

"What evidence?"

"Financial records."

"The transfers?"

"Yes."

"Was Adrian involved?"

My father didn't answer.

"Dad."

"At the time, I didn't know."

"When did you realize?"

"Too late."

"How late?"

"Two weeks before the accident."

My blood ran cold.

"The same time as the transfers."

He nodded.

"What happened?"

"Your mother wanted to go to the police."

"Why didn't she?"

"Because she was afraid."

"Of Richard?"

"Of everyone."

He turned toward me.

"She believed the people behind the money were powerful."

"Who?"

"I don't know."

"You don't?"

"No."

I stared at him.

"Then why did she die?"

He looked down.

"Because she knew too much."

My heart broke.

"Did you know she was going to be killed?"

"No."

"Then why did you hide this from me?"

"Because I thought I could protect you."

I stood.

"You couldn't."

His eyes filled with pain.

"I know."

I walked toward him.

"Did you write the notebook?"

He nodded.

"When?"

"I started it years ago."

"But the dates..."

He looked confused.

"What dates?"

"The pages for June 14 through June 21."

His expression changed.

"I never wrote those."

I froze.

"What?"

He took the notebook from me.

He flipped through it.

The pages were blank.

I stared.

"No."

He looked at me.

"Emma, there's nothing here."

I grabbed the notebook.

The writing was gone.

Every word.

Every sentence.

The pages were completely blank.

My breathing stopped.

"But..."

My father touched my shoulder.

"Are you all right?"

I stared at the empty pages.

I knew what I had seen.

I knew.

I hadn't imagined it.

Someone had written those words.

Someone had told me my mother's death was planned.

Someone had warned me.

But now the evidence was gone.

I looked at my father.

"Dad."

"Yes?"

"Did you know about a blue ledger?"

He hesitated.

Then:

"Yes."

My heart stopped.

"Where is it?"

"I don't know."

"You moved it?"

He looked at me.

"How did you know?"

I couldn't answer.

He sighed.

"I hid it."

"Where?"

"Somewhere no one would think to look."

"Where?"

He stared at me.

Then whispered:

"With the person I trusted most."

I froze.

"Who?"

He didn't answer.

"Dad."

He looked toward the door.

"Emma..."

"What?"

"Promise me something."

"What?"

"If I tell you who has it, you must never tell Adrian."

"I promise."

"And Elena."

My heart stopped.

"You don't trust Elena?"

He looked at me.

"I love your sister."

"So do I."

"But love doesn't mean trust."

I felt tears rise again.

"Who has the ledger?"

He closed his eyes.

Then said:

"Nathan."

The room seemed to disappear.

"Nathan?"

My father nodded.

"I gave it to him."

"Why?"

"Because I knew Richard would search my house."

"But why Nathan?"

"Because he was the only Black I trusted."

I stared at him.

"Does Nathan know?"

"He knows he has something important."

"Does he know what it is?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I never told him."

I couldn't believe it.

"So the blue ledger is with Nathan."

"Yes."

"Where?"

My father looked at me.

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"He doesn't keep it in one place."

I frowned.

"Then how can I find it?"

"You can't."

"I have to."

"Emma."

My father grabbed my hand.

"Listen to me."

I looked at him.

"The ledger isn't the only danger."

"What else?"

He hesitated.

"The person who wants it knows Nathan has it."

My blood turned cold.

"Who?"

"I don't know."

"Then how do they know?"

"Because someone betrayed us."

"Who?"

My father looked at me.

"That's what I never discovered."

I stared at him.

Then something occurred to me.

"Did you tell Elena about the ledger?"

His expression changed.

"No."

"Adrian?"

"No."

"Your mother?"

"She knew."

"Anyone else?"

He shook his head.

"Only Nathan."

I nodded slowly.

Then I remembered the photograph.

Elena standing beside my parents.

The warning.

Never let Elena find the blue ledger.

If my father hadn't told her...

How did she know?

Unless someone else had told her.

I looked at my father.

"Did my mother trust anyone?"

He thought.

"Her sister."

"My aunt?"

"Yes."

"Where is she?"

My father's face changed.

"She's dead."

My stomach dropped.

"When?"

"Three years ago."

The same year.

The same month.

"How?"

"Car accident."

I stared at him.

Another accident.

Another death.

Another person who knew too much.

My father sat down.

"I never told you because I didn't want to destroy your life."

I looked at him.

"You almost lost me anyway."

His face crumbled.

"I'm sorry."

I hugged him.

For a long moment, neither of us spoke.

Then he whispered:

"Please don't marry Adrian."

My heart stopped.

He pulled away.

"I don't trust him."

"I know."

"You know?"

I nodded.

"I'm not marrying him."

Relief crossed his face.

"Good."

Then he said something that made my blood freeze.

"Because I don't think he intends to let you cancel the wedding."

I returned to my room before dawn.

I locked the door.

Then I sat on the floor beside my bed.

Nathan had the ledger.

My father trusted Nathan.

Someone knew Nathan had it.

Elena might know.

Adrian was searching for the accident report.

And someone was sending me messages.

I picked up my phone.

A new message had arrived.

No number.

Did your father tell you where the ledger is?

I stared at it.

My heart pounded.

I typed:

Who are you?

The answer came immediately.

Someone who wants you alive.

I frowned.

Then tell me who you are.

Three dots appeared.

Then disappeared.

Then appeared again.

Finally:

Ask Nathan about the night he found your parents.

My pulse quickened.

I typed:

What about it?

The answer:

He didn't tell you everything.

Another message appeared.

Your parents were not alone that night.

I stopped breathing.

Someone else was in the car.

My hands began shaking.

I typed:

Who?

The response came after several seconds.

Your mother.

I stared at the screen.

That made no sense.

My mother had been in the car.

Of course she had.

Then another message appeared.

Your mother survived the crash.

I couldn't breathe.

The phone slipped from my hand.

My mother...

had survived?

I stared at the message.

Then another appeared.

Nathan knows where she went.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

I grabbed the phone.

I called Nathan.

He answered on the first ring.

"Emma?"

My voice shook.

"Nathan..."

"What happened?"

"My mother."

Silence.

"She survived."

The silence on the other end became terrifying.

"Nathan."

He didn't answer.

"Tell me."

Still nothing.

I stood.

"Nathan, tell me!"

Finally, his voice came.

Very quietly.

"Who told you?"

My blood froze.

I closed my eyes.

"You knew."

Nathan exhaled.

"Emma..."

"You knew my mother survived."

"Yes."

I felt like the world had stopped.

"Where is she?"

He didn't answer.

"Nathan."

"I can explain."

"Where is my mother?"

Another silence.

Then:

"She's alive."

My knees nearly gave out.

"Where?"

"I'll tell you."

"When?"

"Not over the phone."

"Then where?"

"I'll come to you."

"No."

I grabbed my coat.

"I'm coming to you."

"Emma, don't."

"I need the truth."

"You're not ready."

"I've already died once."

He went silent.

I realized what I had said.

Too late.

"Emma..."

I closed my eyes.

"I didn't mean—"

But Nathan interrupted.

His voice was different now.

He sounded frightened.

"Who told you that you died?"

I couldn't speak.

"Emma?"

I swallowed.

"Someone sent me a message."

Nathan's breathing became heavy.

"What did it say?"

I stared at the screen.

Then whispered:

"That I should have stayed dead."

Nathan didn't respond.

And in that silence...

I knew.

He understood exactly what it meant.

Because when he finally spoke, his voice was barely audible.

"Then they know you're alive."

I looked toward the window.

The sun was beginning to rise.

Six days before my wedding.

Six days before the death I had escaped.

And now I knew something far more important.

My mother might still be alive.

But someone had spent three years making sure I believed she was dead.

And whoever had done it...

was afraid I would find her.