THE MAN ON THE NEWS
1254 Words
That night, Isla couldn't stop thinking about him.
She had tried.
She had taken a shower, changed into her old pajamas, made herself something to eat, and even cleaned the small kitchen twice.
Nothing worked.
Her mind kept returning to the same moment.
The accident.
The smoke.
The shattered window.
The man's hand closing around her wrist.
And those four words.
Don't let them find me.
Isla sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the framed photograph of her grandmother.
"Who were you?" she whispered.
She knew the man had been seriously injured. She knew an ambulance had taken him to the hospital.
But she didn't know anything else.
She didn't even know his name.
At least, that's what she thought.
Her curiosity finally won.
Isla reached for the remote and switched on the television.
The screen lit up the dark apartment.
She wasn't expecting much. Maybe a movie. Maybe something she could watch until she became tired enough to sleep.
Instead, a red banner appeared across the bottom of the screen.
BREAKING NEWS.
Isla's eyes narrowed.
The reporter stood outside a large hospital surrounded by flashing emergency lights.
"Authorities are still investigating today's serious vehicle accident involving one of the city's most well-known businessmen."
Isla slowly sat upright.
The reporter continued.
"Adrian Hale, CEO of Hale Industries, was involved in a collision earlier this afternoon. Sources confirm that Mr. Hale remains hospitalized following the incident."
Isla froze.
The reporter turned slightly as a photograph appeared beside her.
A photograph of the man from the car.
The same dark eyes.
The same sharp features.
The same face she had seen for only a few seconds before the paramedics arrived.
Isla's mouth fell open.
"Adrian Hale..."
She repeated the name quietly.
So that was who he was.
A businessman.
Apparently, not just an ordinary businessman either.
The reporter continued talking about Hale Industries, describing Adrian Hale as one of the city's youngest and most successful business leaders.
There were photographs of him stepping out of expensive cars.
Standing beside important people.
Speaking at business events.
Shaking hands with politicians and investors.
The man Isla had pulled from a wrecked car suddenly looked completely different on television.
Powerful.
Untouchable.
Important.
Yet, when he had looked at her, he hadn't seemed powerful.
He had seemed afraid.
Isla turned up the volume.
"Police have described the incident as a traffic accident," the reporter said. "At this time, there is no official evidence suggesting that the collision was intentional."
Isla frowned.
"No."
The word escaped her before she could stop it.
She stared at the screen.
"That's not what happened."
She remembered the sound.
The sudden impact.
The black SUV.
She had seen it.
She was sure of it.
The SUV had struck Adrian's car before it disappeared down the road.
Her heart began beating faster.
Why hadn't anyone mentioned it?
Why was the news calling it an accident?
Maybe she had misunderstood what she saw.
Maybe the chaos had confused her.
But she knew what she had seen.
Someone had hit Adrian's car.
And Adrian had known something was wrong.
Don't let them find me.
Isla stood and began pacing around the room.
"Find you?"
She stopped.
Who was "them"?
And why would someone like Adrian Hale be running from anybody?
She looked back at the television.
The reporter was now interviewing a police officer.
"We are currently reviewing surveillance footage from nearby businesses," the officer said. "At this stage, we are asking anyone who witnessed the incident to come forward."
Isla's heart sank.
She had witnessed it.
More than that.
She had saved him.
Should she tell the police what she had seen?
It was the obvious thing to do.
But something stopped her.
Maybe it was the fear in Adrian's eyes.
Maybe it was the strange way he had grabbed her wrist.
Or maybe it was simply the feeling that something was wrong.
She picked up her phone.
Her thumb hovered over the emergency contact screen.
Then she stopped.
A soft knock came from the hallway.
Isla froze.
She looked toward the apartment door.
Silence.
Maybe she had imagined it.
Then came another knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Her stomach tightened.
It was almost midnight.
Who would be visiting her at this hour?
She slowly stood.
The television continued playing in the background.
The reporter's voice filled the room.
"Adrian Hale's condition remains stable, though hospital officials have declined to provide further details..."
Another knock.
This one was louder.
Isla didn't move.
"Who is it?"
No answer.
She took a cautious step toward the door.
Then another.
Her hand reached for the lock but stopped just before touching it.
A deep voice came from the other side.
"Miss Isla Bennett."
Her blood ran cold.
The stranger knew her name.
"We need to talk."
Isla stepped backward.
Her mind raced.
How did this person know who she was?
She hadn't given her name to anyone at the accident.
At least, she didn't think she had.
"Who are you?" she asked.
Silence.
Then the voice returned.
"It's about Adrian Hale."
Isla's heart slammed against her chest.
She looked toward the television.
Adrian's photograph was still on the screen.
Then she looked back at the door.
"How do you know me?"
"We know you were there."
Isla swallowed.
"At the accident?"
"Yes."
She didn't answer.
The stranger continued.
"You need to listen carefully."
Isla moved farther away from the door.
"Why?"
"Because what you saw today wasn't an accident."
Her eyes widened.
She already knew.
Or at least, she had suspected it.
But hearing someone else say it made everything suddenly feel real.
"Who are you?" she asked again.
This time, there was a pause.
Then the stranger answered.
"Someone trying to keep you alive."
Isla's breathing stopped for a moment.
She didn't know whether to believe him.
She didn't even know whether opening the door would make things better or worse.
Her hand tightened around her phone.
She quietly moved toward the kitchen.
There was a small window above the sink.
If she needed to escape, maybe she could-
The stranger spoke again.
"Don't call the police."
Isla stopped.
"Why?"
"Because we don't know who we can trust."
Those words frightened her more than anything else.
She stared at the door.
"Does Adrian know you're here?"
Another pause.
"No."
"Then why are you here?"
The stranger's voice became quieter.
"Because Adrian spoke to you."
Isla remembered his final words.
Don't let them find me.
She suddenly understood.
Whatever Adrian was hiding...
Whatever had happened before the crash...
She had somehow become part of it.
The television suddenly changed to another news report.
A new image appeared on the screen.
Adrian Hale.
But this time, there was something different.
The reporter said:
"Authorities have confirmed that several unidentified individuals were seen near Mr. Hale's vehicle shortly before the crash."
Isla stared at the screen.
Her heart pounded.
The stranger outside remained silent.
Then her phone vibrated.
She looked down.
UNKNOWN NUMBER.
A message appeared.
DON'T OPEN THE DOOR.
Isla's eyes widened.
She slowly looked toward the apartment door.
The person outside knocked again.
"Miss Bennett?"
She didn't answer.
Another message arrived.
THE MAN OUTSIDE IS NOT WHO HE SAYS HE IS.
Isla's hands began to shake.
She looked at the door.
Then at her phone.
Then back at the door.
For the first time that night, she realized something terrifying.
Maybe the question wasn't who was looking for Adrian Hale?
Maybe the real question was...
Who had found her?
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