WHEN EVERYTHING CHANGED
1723 Words
I didn't sleep much that night.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the messages again.
Stay away from Ethan.
You have no idea what his family did to yours.
If you continue investigating, you'll regret it.
By morning, I'd convinced myself that I was overreacting.
Maybe it was a stupid prank.
Maybe someone at school had discovered that Ethan and I were getting along and decided to scare us.
But deep down, I knew it wasn't a joke.
Someone had been watching us.
And they knew about our families.
I arrived at school earlier than usual and went straight to the library.
Ethan was already there.
The moment he saw me, he stood.
“You're okay.”
It wasn't a question.
I nodded.
“I'm fine.”
He studied my face.
“You look tired.”
“I didn't sleep.”
“Neither did I.”
I put my bag down.
“Did you get any more messages?”
“No.”
I hesitated.
“Ethan…”
He immediately knew something was wrong.
“What?”
I showed him my phone.
He read the messages.
His expression hardened.
“Why didn't you tell me last night?”
“I didn't want to worry you.”
“You should have told me.”
“I know.”
He looked at the screen again.
“Someone knows we're investigating.”
“That's what I'm afraid of.”
He handed the phone back.
“We're going to find out who.”
I nodded.
“But we're not doing anything reckless.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“You're saying that to me?”
“Yes.”
He smiled faintly.
“Fair enough.”
We sat down.
For the first time since we'd started investigating, neither of us spoke about the competition.
The mystery was more important.
Ethan opened his laptop.
“I found something last night.”
I leaned closer.
“What?”
He pulled up an old digital newspaper archive.
“There was another company involved in Northstar Holdings.”
I frowned.
“Which one?”
“Blackwell Investments.”
The name meant nothing to me.
“Who owned it?”
Ethan looked at me.
“Your father's former business partner.”
I stared at the screen.
“Victor Hayes?”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“Someone else.”
He clicked on an old photograph.
A man appeared on the screen.
I recognized him immediately.
“That's my uncle.”
Ethan nodded.
“Marcus Carter.”
My stomach tightened.
I had heard my father mention him before, but only rarely.
“He was involved with Northstar?”
“Apparently.”
“Why didn't my father tell me?”
“Maybe he didn't know.”
I shook my head.
“No. He knew.”
Ethan looked at me.
“You're sure?”
“My father never talks about him.”
“That doesn't necessarily mean anything.”
I stared at the photograph.
There was something about the man's expression that made me uncomfortable.
“Who is Victor Hayes's daughter?” I asked.
“Rebecca.”
“And what happened to her?”
“I'm not sure.”
“Then let's find out.”
Ethan nodded.
We spent the next two hours searching through old records.
Eventually, we found an address.
A small house in a town several hours away.
I looked at Ethan.
“We should go.”
He hesitated.
“This weekend.”
I nodded.
“Okay.”
Neither of us noticed the person standing outside the library.
Neither did we notice the phone pointed toward the window.
Someone was watching us again.
The following afternoon, Ethan and I were practicing our presentation when the fire alarm suddenly rang.
Everyone rushed into the hallway.
Teachers tried to organize the students, but confusion spread through the building.
I grabbed my bag.
“What's happening?”
“I don't know.”
Ethan took my hand.
“Stay with me.”
We moved with the crowd toward the courtyard.
Outside, students gathered in groups.
Then I noticed something.
A black car was parked across the street.
The same kind of car I'd seen the day before.
“Ethan.”
He followed my gaze.
His expression changed.
“Stay here.”
“No.”
“Lena.”
“I'm coming.”
We crossed the courtyard together.
But before we reached the gate, the car drove away.
Ethan pulled out his phone.
“I'll get security to check the cameras.”
I nodded.
Then I noticed something lying near the gate.
A small envelope.
I picked it up.
“Ethan.”
He turned.
“What?”
I handed it to him.
His face went pale.
There was no name on the envelope.
Only one word.
RUN.
He opened it carefully.
Inside was a photograph.
I stared at it.
It showed my parents.
Young.
Happy.
Alive.
And standing beside them was someone I recognized.
My father.
But there was something else.
A second photograph was behind it.
This one showed Ethan's parents.
And my father.
All three men were standing together.
I looked at Ethan.
“Our parents knew each other.”
“More than we thought.”
He turned the photograph over.
There was writing on the back.
They lied to you because the truth would destroy both families.
My heart pounded.
“What does that mean?”
“I don't know.”
I looked at the photograph again.
“Then we find out.”
Ethan nodded.
“We will.”
That evening, my father was waiting for me at home.
The moment I walked into the living room, I knew something was wrong.
He looked worried.
“Lena, where have you been?”
“At school.”
“Did you go anywhere else?”
I hesitated.
“No.”
He stared at me.
“You're lying.”
My stomach dropped.
“Why are you asking?”
“Because someone called me.”
“Who?”
He didn't answer.
“Dad?”
He walked toward the window.
“You need to stop spending time with Ethan.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“Stay away from the Blake family.”
“Why?”
“Because I said so.”
“That isn't good enough.”
His expression hardened.
“Lena.”
“No.”
I stepped closer.
“You've spent my entire life telling me what I can and cannot know.”
“Because I was protecting you.”
“From what?”
He looked at me.
“From the truth.”
I shook my head.
“I'm tired of everyone saying that.”
“Lena, listen to me.”
“No. You listen to me.”
My voice trembled.
“I deserve to know what happened.”
He looked away.
“What happened between our families?”
Silence.
Then he finally spoke.
“Your mother found out that someone was stealing money from the company.”
I froze.
“Who?”
“We never found out.”
“And my uncle?”
My father's expression changed.
“What did you say?”
“Marcus Carter.”
He went completely still.
“Where did you hear that name?”
“Answer me.”
My father sat down.
“Marcus was involved.”
“With the theft?”
“Yes.”
I swallowed.
“What else?”
“He wasn't working alone.”
“Who was helping him?”
My father closed his eyes.
“I don't know.”
“You do know.”
He looked at me.
“The person behind everything was someone we trusted.”
“Who?”
He didn't answer.
“Dad.”
Before he could speak, his phone rang.
He answered.
“Hello?”
His expression changed.
“What?”
He listened.
Then looked at me.
“She's with me.”
A pause.
“I'm listening.”
His face went pale.
Then he hung up.
“What happened?”
He didn't answer.
“Dad?”
He whispered, “They know you're investigating.”
My heart sank.
“Who?”
He looked at the door.
“Everyone.”
I left the house twenty minutes later.
I needed air.
I needed space.
Most of all, I needed to see Ethan.
I called him.
He answered immediately.
“Lena?”
“I need to talk to you.”
“Are you okay?”
“No.”
“I'll come to you.”
“Where are you?”
“Outside.”
I stopped walking.
“What?”
I looked up.
Ethan was standing across the street.
He smiled slightly.
“I told you I'd be there.”
I walked toward him.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then I showed him the photographs.
He studied them carefully.
“We're getting close.”
“I'm scared.”
“I know.”
“I don't want anything to happen to you.”
He looked at me.
“Nothing is going to happen to me.”
“You don't know that.”
“No.”
He paused.
“But I know I don't want to lose you.”
My heart stopped.
I looked up at him.
“What?”
He seemed surprised by his own words.
“I mean…”
He looked away.
“I don't know how to say this.”
“Then don't.”
“No.”
He looked back at me.
“I've spent years pretending you were the person I hated most.”
I swallowed.
“But you weren't.”
My eyes stung.
“You were the person I noticed most.”
I didn't know what to say.
He smiled nervously.
“And somewhere along the way, hating you became easier than admitting I cared.”
I looked down.
“I think I did the same.”
For a moment, neither of us moved.
Then Ethan gently squeezed my hand.
No jokes.
No teasing.
Just reassurance.
“We'll figure this out,” he said.
“Together?”
“Together.”
I smiled.
“Okay.”
Then a car horn sounded behind us.
We turned.
A black car was parked at the end of the street.
The headlights came on.
Ethan immediately stepped in front of me.
The car began moving toward us.
And suddenly, I understood.
Whoever had been watching us wasn't trying to scare us anymore.
They were coming for us.
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