Chapter 3 — The Countdown To The Truth
1510 Words
Ava stood motionless in the foyer, her fingers still wrapped tightly around her phone.
The countdown continued.
00:58:41
00:58:40
00:58:39
Each passing second echoed louder than the last.
She forced herself to breathe slowly, just as her mother had taught her whenever anxiety threatened to take control.
One breath.
Then another.
Her heartbeat gradually steadied.
"This is ridiculous," she whispered.
"It has to be."
She had deleted the first message.
She could delete this one too.
People created elaborate scams every day. Some preyed on fear. Others exploited grief. Whoever had sent these messages had probably searched public records, found her father's name, and decided to manipulate the one wound that time had never completely healed.
It was cruel, but it wasn't impossible.
Her thumb hovered over the screen.
Delete.
The message disappeared.
For one brief moment, silence returned.
She exhaled.
"There."
"I'm done."
She slipped the phone back into her handbag.
One step, then another.
She had barely reached the kitchen when—
Buzz.
The vibration sliced through the quiet house.
Ava stopped walking.
Slowly… she looked over her shoulder.
Her handbag rested on the dining table.
It vibrated again.
And again.
A knot tightened in her stomach.
She returned to the table with hesitant steps and pulled out her phone.
The same sender.
Another message.
This time, there was no countdown.
Only six lines.
“Ava Sterling.
If you ever want to know why your father really died...
Come to Sterling Group Pavilion.
Come alone.
Tell no one.
Delete this message after reading.
Everything inside her went still.
Her father.
Not her parents.
Her father.
Jonathan Sterling.
The name alone was enough to unravel years of carefully buried grief.
For twenty years, she had lived with the same truth everyone else believed.
Jonathan Sterling had died in a tragic car accident on a rain soaked highway.
The police investigated.
The case has been closed.
Friends had mourned.
Flowers had covered the church altar.
Her mother had cried until she could no longer produce tears.
There had never been questions.
Only loss. Only acceptance.
At least… that was the story she had grown up believing.
A sharp ache spread through her chest.
Without warning, a memory surfaced.
She was eight years old.
Balanced high on her father's shoulders beneath the silver glow of the Harvest Moon Festival.
He laughed as she reached toward the floating lanterns drifting across the night sky.
"You'll touch the stars one day, my little moon."
"What if I fall?" she had asked.
He smiled.
"Then I'll catch you."
Her lips trembled.
Only a few weeks later...
He was gone.
The warmth of that memory shattered beneath the weight of reality.
Ava blinked rapidly, trying to force back the tears gathering in her eyes.
Whoever had sent these messages knew exactly where to strike.
Not at her curiosity, but her heart.
Her thumb drifted instinctively toward another contact.
Mom.
One tap.
That was all it would take.
Her mother would answer.
She always answered.
No matter how busy she was. No matter what time it was.
Ava imagined asking the question that suddenly refused to leave her mind.
"Mom... was Dad's death really an accident?"
Her finger hovered over the call button.
Then she remembered the final instruction.
Tell no one.
She frowned.
Why?
Why insist on secrecy?
Was it simply another tactic to isolate her?
Or...
Was someone genuinely afraid of whoever might overhear?
Ava lowered the phone.
"No."
She shook her head firmly.
"This is exactly how people get manipulated."
She refused to become another victim of someone's twisted game.
She opened the message once more.
Read it carefully.
Then deleted it.
Again.
Her heartbeat slowed.
She slipped the phone into her bag.
"I'm not coming."
She spoke the words aloud.
Almost as though saying them would make them true.
But somewhere deep inside...
A quiet voice whispered a question she could no longer ignore.
If this really is a lie...
Then why does it feel so much like the truth?
Ava remained standing in the kitchen long after she had slipped her phone back into her handbag.
The silence was oppressive.
She walked to the sink and filled the kettle, more out of habit than intention. As the water heated, she rested both hands against the countertop and closed her eyes.
She needed to think logically.
Someone had obtained her phone number.
Someone knew her father's name.
That did not necessarily mean they knew the truth.
The whistle of the kettle broke through her thoughts.
She poured hot water into a mug, dropped it in a tea bag, and watched the amber color slowly spread through the cup.
Before she could take a sip—
Her phone rang.
The familiar ringtone echoed through the quiet house.
Ava startled.
For one terrifying second, she thought it might be the anonymous sender.
She hurried to the table and looked at the screen.
Kael
The tightness in her chest eased instantly.
She answered on the first ring.
"Good morning."
His warm laughter flowed through the speaker.
"Good morning, beautiful."
The simple greeting wrapped around her like a blanket on a cold night.
Without realizing it, she smiled.
"I hope I didn't interrupt anything," Kael said.
"You didn't."
"I was beginning to think you'd forgotten me."
She laughed softly.
"That would be impossible."
"I should hope so."
His teasing tone was familiar, effortless, and comforting.
It was the voice she had imagined hearing after every difficult day for the rest of her life.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Making tea."
"Have you eaten breakfast?"
Ava hesitated.
"...Not yet."
"I knew it."
She rolled her eyes, even though he could not see her.
"You always know."
"I pay attention."
Those three words warmed her heart more than any grand romantic speech ever could.
"You've probably already read your affirmations."
"I have."
"And watered your lilies."
She glanced toward the row of white lilies blooming beneath the kitchen window.
"I was just about to."
"I deserve a prize."
She laughed.
"You deserve a very inflated ego."
"I'll accept that."
For the first time since the messages began, the fear loosened its grip.
The nightmare.
The countdown.
The anonymous texts.
Everything seemed farther away.
As long as Kael was talking...
The world felt normal again.
"So," he said, "three weeks."
Her smile widened.
"Three weeks."
"Are you nervous?"
"A little."
"Liar."
She laughed.
"Fine... maybe a lot."
"I knew it."
"I've never planned a mating ceremony before."
"I certainly hope not."
She shook her head, smiling.
"You know what I mean."
"I do."
His voice softened.
"So do I."
A comfortable silence settled between them.
It wasn't awkward.
It never was.
Some silences did not need to be filled.
Not when two people understood each other so completely.
Kael spoke again.
"I've been thinking about our honeymoon."
"Oh?"
"The cabin beside Moon Lake."
"The same one you've shown me a hundred times?"
"The very same."
She smiled.
"I already know every room."
"You haven't seen the stars there."
"No?"
"They reflect across the water so clearly that it looks as though the sky has fallen into the lake."
She closed her eyes.
She could almost picture it.
A quiet wooden cabin surrounded by towering pines.
Morning coffee on the porch.
Evenings wrapped in blankets beneath a sky overflowing with stars.
No board meetings. No expectations. No responsibilities.
Just the two of them.
"I'd love that," she whispered.
"I know."
"And after the ceremony..."
His voice grew quieter.
"...I promise that's exactly where I'll take you."
Warmth spread through her chest.
The nightmare from the previous night suddenly felt foolish.
Impossible.
How could the man speaking so gently now ever become the stranger she had seen in her dream?
Dreams were not prophecies.
They were only fears wearing familiar faces.
"Ava?"
"Hmm?"
"I love you."
Three simple words.
Yet they reached places inside her that nothing else could.
She smiled.
"I love you too."
Neither of them rushed to end the call.
Finally, Kael sighed.
"I should get back before Daniel starts reorganizing my entire schedule."
She laughed.
"Go save your company, Mr. Ashford."
"I'll call you this afternoon."
"I'll be waiting."
"I love you."
"I know."
The call ended.
For several moments, Ava simply stared at the dark screen.
The fear she had carried all morning had almost disappeared.
Maybe she really had overreacted.
Maybe the nightmare had made her more vulnerable than usual.
Maybe the messages were nothing more than a cruel prank.
She reached for her tea.
Her phone vibrated.
Once.
A sharp c***k echoed through the kitchen.
Her mug slipped from her fingers and shattered across the tiled floor.
Hot tea spread across the broken porcelain.
Ava didn't even notice.
Her eyes were locked on the phone.
Another message.
From the same unknown number.
The countdown had begun.
The messages had never been the real threat.
They had only been the warning.
Whoever was behind them was no longer waiting.
They were making their move.
And if she said no...
What would they do next?
- Writer
