An unexpected ally
696 Words
Chapter 4
The morning sun filtered through the lace curtains, but Blackwood felt anything but welcoming.
Amora stood on the porch, a warm cup of coffee cradled between her hands. The town was waking up. Neighbors greeted one another, children rode bicycles down the quiet street, and birds chirped from the towering oak trees.
To anyone else, Blackwood looked peaceful.
To Amora, it was a town built on unanswered questions.
Her eyes drifted to the road.
The black SUV from the previous night was gone.
Had she imagined it?
No.
She knew what she had seen.
“You’re up early.”
Her mother stepped onto the porch, wrapping a light sweater around herself.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“I figured.”
They stood together in silence.
Finally, her mother spoke.
“Are you really here because you missed home?”
Amora lowered her gaze.
“No.”
“I didn’t think so.”
She reached into her pocket and pulled out the cream-colored letter.
“I got this two nights ago.”
Her mother’s face drained of color as she read the three sentences.
“Your brother didn’t run away.”
“He was betrayed.”
“Come home.”
Her hands trembled.
“Where did you get this?”
“It was left outside my apartment.”
“Did anyone see who delivered it?”
“No.”
Her mother looked toward the street as if afraid someone might be watching.
“You need to leave this alone.”
Amora frowned.
“You don’t believe it?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Then why are you scared?”
Tears filled her mother’s eyes.
“Because eight years ago, your brother asked the same questions you’re asking now.”
She turned and walked back inside before Amora could stop her.
⸻
Later that afternoon, Amora headed into town.
She needed answers.
Her first stop was the Blackwood Public Library.
If Noah had been investigating something before he disappeared, maybe there were old newspaper articles or public records everyone else had overlooked.
The library hadn’t changed.
The scent of old books filled the air as she wandered between shelves.
She found the archive room at the back of the building.
Stacks of newspapers stretched across decades.
She pulled out editions from eight years earlier.
Missing Person.
Search Suspended.
Police Suspect Voluntary Disappearance.
Each headline made her jaw tighten.
“They never believed him.”
“Neither did most people.”
The deep voice startled her.
Amora turned sharply.
A tall man stood a few feet away, holding a folder beneath one arm.
He looked to be in his early thirties, dressed simply in a charcoal jacket over a white shirt. His dark hair was neatly trimmed, and his sharp gray eyes studied her with quiet intensity.
“You knew my brother?”
The man didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, he extended a hand.
“Ethan Cross.”
She looked at his hand but didn’t take it.
“And you are?”
“A private investigator.”
Amora’s expression hardened.
“So you’re following me too?”
One corner of Ethan’s mouth lifted slightly.
“If I were following you, I wouldn’t introduce myself.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because someone sent you a letter.”
Her heart skipped.
“How do you know about that?”
“I’ve been expecting you.”
Every instinct told Amora to walk away.
But something in Ethan’s calm expression stopped her.
“You’ve been investigating Noah’s disappearance, haven’t you?”
“For three years.”
“Did you find anything?”
“I found enough to know the police report was incomplete.”
Amora’s pulse quickened.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
Ethan glanced around the archive room before lowering his voice.
“This isn’t the place.”
“I don’t care.”
“You should.”
His expression became serious.
“Because if someone knows we’re talking…”
He paused.
“…we won’t be the only ones leaving this library.”
Before Amora could respond, the lights flickered.
Then went out.
The archive room fell into darkness.
Somewhere between the shelves…
Footsteps echoed.
- Writer
