Chapter 3 - My Apartment Had Been Torn Apart—But the Thieves Ignored Every Valuable Thing and Took Only One PhotographMy apartment looked like someone had turned it upside down.
Drawers were open.
Books scattered across the floor.
My mattress had been sliced.
The kitchen cabinets were emptied.
But the television was untouched.
My jewelry was untouched.
My laptop was still on the desk.
Nothing valuable had been stolen.
Except one thing.
A photograph.
I stood in the bedroom doorway.
“That picture.”
Adrian looked at me.
“Which one?”
I pointed.
The empty frame hung above my dresser.
“My mother.”
He became still.
“What do you know about your mother?”
“Not much.”
I had been raised by her until I was twelve.
Then she died.
At least, that's what everyone told me.
But there had always been unanswered questions.
Her death certificate had never been shown to me.
Her belongings disappeared.
And my father had vanished shortly before she supposedly died.
I had spent years convincing myself it didn't matter.
Now it mattered.
Adrian picked up the empty frame.
“Do you have another copy?”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“Then we need to find out why someone wanted it.”
I sat on the bed.
“What does my mother have to do with you?”
“I don't know.”
“Then why are you protecting me?”
His answer came instantly.
“Because I failed to protect someone once.”
“Who?”
He looked away.
“My sister.”
I had never heard emotion in his voice before.
Now I did.
Pain.
“She was twenty.”
“What happened?”
“She trusted someone.”
“And?”
“He betrayed her.”
Adrian's hands tightened.
“I arrived too late.”
I didn't know what to say.
He looked back at me.
“I won't arrive too late again.”
The words settled between us.
Then Sofia entered.
“We found something.”
She handed Adrian a small evidence bag.
Inside was a tiny metal key.
“What is that?”
“It was hidden behind your mother's photograph.”
I stared.
“I've never seen it.”
Adrian examined it.
An engraving appeared on one side.
A single letter.
D.
His expression darkened.
“What?”
He didn't answer.
Instead, he asked:
“Emily, did your mother ever mention the name Duca?”
I thought.
“No.”
Then I remembered.
“Wait.”
Adrian looked at me.
“When I was little, my mother used to tell me one thing.”
“What?”
“If a man named Duca ever came looking for me, I should run.”
Adrian went completely still.
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
He stared at the key.
Then at me.
“Your mother knew my family.”
“How?”
“I don't know yet.”
He turned toward Sofia.
“Find everything.”
Sofia nodded.
Adrian looked back at me.
“And find Ryan.”
My heart sank.
May you like
“Why?”
“Because I think he knows more than he's telling you.”
Related Stories
