Chapter3
1265 Words
Lena
Amira had never written me a letter.
Not for my birthday. Not when I left for school. Not even when she was angry with me and refused to speak for half a day.
Now she’d written my full name across an envelope like it was a legal notice.
Lena Vale.
I ran my thumb over the writing.
The paper was soft from being folded and handled, the edges slightly worn. It didn’t look like something she’d written tonight.
She’d carried it around.
For how long?
I turned the envelope over.
Nothing.
I glanced toward Adrian.
He had walked a few steps away and was speaking to one of his men near the cemetery entrance. His back was partly turned to me.
I opened the envelope.
The paper inside had a permanent crease through the middle.
I recognized Amira’s handwriting immediately.
Lena,
If you’re reading this, I couldn’t stay.
I stopped.
My eyes moved toward the cemetery.
She hadn’t stayed.
She’d left her car.
Her handbag was still inside.
And she’d left me this.
I kept reading.
There are things I should have told you a long time ago. I won’t have time to explain them.
My fingers tightened around the paper.
Don’t trust the Blackthornes.
That was it.
No explanation. No reason.
Just a warning.
I read it again.
She wrote this a long time ago.
The thought settled heavily in my chest.
How long had she known something was coming?
I folded the note along its old crease and slipped it back into the envelope.
Then I looked toward Adrian.
Blackthorne.
The warning was about his family.
Not him.
That was what I told myself.
He had saved me.
He had saved the boy.
He’d stood between me and the sound of that car door before he’d even stopped to think about it.
But my aunt had been afraid before any of that happened.
And she knew something I didn’t.
“Lena?”
I nearly dropped the envelope.
Adrian had turned around.
His eyes moved to my face, then to the envelope in my hand.
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
Too fast.
His attention stayed on me.
I forced myself to loosen my grip.
“I just found out my aunt left me a note.”
“What did she say?”
My fingers tightened again.
“I don’t know yet.”
It was the safest answer I had.
He watched me for a moment.
I could have handed him the note.
Instead, I tucked it into my bag.
I wasn’t ready to show it to him.
Not after what it said.
Not when I didn’t know whether the warning was about his family, his father, or something much worse.
Adrian didn’t ask again.
“You said that about the pendant too.”
I looked at him.
“Said what?”
“That you didn’t know.”
“It’s true both times.”
He held my gaze for a second, then looked away.
A dull ache had started behind my eyes.
Maybe it was the shock.
Maybe it was everything that had happened tonight.
Or maybe I was finally running out of energy to pretend I wasn’t scared.
I looked toward the cemetery.
The body was still there.
The coffin was broken.
There was blood on the grass.
And somewhere in the middle of all that, my aunt had disappeared.
“I need to go home.”
Adrian looked toward the parking area.
“Do you know where your aunt is?”
“No.”
His gaze settled on me.
“Then you shouldn’t go alone.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“You don’t have to prove that.”
Something about the way he said it made me pause.
He wasn’t ordering me.
He wasn’t trying to scare me.
He sounded almost tired.
I looked toward the dark sedan.
“I can drive.”
“I can have someone take you.”
“No.”
The answer came immediately.
He waited.
I rubbed my thumb against the edge of my bag.
“I don’t want someone following me.”
“I wasn’t going to have them follow you.”
I looked at him.
He nodded toward the road.
“I meant take you home.”
“Oh.”
That was embarrassing.
He didn’t smile.
“Your car is here.”
“My aunt’s car.”
He glanced at it.
“You’re sure you can drive?”
“Yes.”
He studied me for another second.
Then he nodded.
“Fine.”
No argument.
That surprised me.
I started toward the car.
After a few steps, I stopped.
“Adrian.”
He looked at me.
“Thank you.”
His expression changed slightly.
“For what?”
I glanced toward the cemetery.
“For earlier.”
He didn’t ask me to explain.
He simply nodded.
“Get home safely, Lena.”
I opened the driver’s door.
My aunt’s handbag was still on the passenger seat.
I stared at it for a second before getting inside.
Everything about the car looked normal.
That almost made it worse.
I started the engine.
In the rearview mirror, Adrian was still standing beside a dark car with a silver strip along the side, watching me leave.
I looked away.
The drive home took less than twenty minutes.
I kept expecting to see my aunt’s car in the driveway.
It wasn’t there.
Our gate was open.
I slowed down.
Amira always locked the gate.
Always.
Even when she was only stepping inside for five minutes.
I parked outside the house and sat there for a moment with both hands resting on the steering wheel.
The street was quiet.
Too quiet after everything that had happened.
I turned off the engine.
For a few seconds, I didn’t move.
Then I got out.
The gate was still open.
I pushed it farther aside and walked toward the front door.
It was unlocked.
I stopped.
I knew I’d locked it this morning.
I was almost certain.
I reached for the handle anyway.
The door opened without resistance.
“Amira?”
Nothing.
I stepped inside.
The living room looked exactly the way we’d left it.
Almost.
A plate sat on the dining table.
There was food on it.
Half-eaten.
I stared at it.
Amira never left food like that.
She hated wasting food.
I reached out and touched the edge of the plate.
It was cold.
Not freshly abandoned.
Whatever had happened here, it hadn’t happened moments ago.
I looked around the room.
No broken furniture.
No overturned drawers.
No obvious sign of a struggle.
If someone had been here, they hadn’t come in looking for a fight.
That thought didn’t make me feel better.
I walked toward her bedroom.
The door was open.
I stood in the hallway, listening.
The house made its usual sounds—the refrigerator humming, the old clock ticking from the living room.
Nothing else.
I took one step inside.
Her room was empty.
I stopped.
Then headlights moved across the wall.
I froze.
A car had turned onto our street.
The lights slowed.
Then stopped.
I knew that car.
The dark body.
The silver strip along the side.
Adrian had been standing beside it, watching me leave.
I stared through the window.
The driver’s door opened.
Adrian stepped out.
He looked toward the house.
Then toward the open gate.
He’d said fine when I told him I could drive myself home.
He’d let me believe he was leaving.
He hadn’t.
I took one step toward the door.
Adrian was already walking through the gate.
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