Chapter 8 — The Things She Knew

I stared at the words until they stopped looking real. Don't trust him. My fingers tightened around the letter. Then I looked at Adrian. He was still standing beside the safe. Still. Too still. “How did she know your name?” He didn't answer. “Adrian.” His eyes met mine. “You knew my mother.” It wasn't a question. His jaw tightened. “Yes.” The word landed harder than I expected. I stepped back. “How well?” “Enough.” “That doesn't mean anything.” “It means I knew her.” “You've known her this whole time?” “No.” “Then when?” He looked away. And somehow, that was worse than an answer. “When I was younger.” I stared at him. “You were here?” “Once.” “My mother never mentioned you.” “She wasn't supposed to.” My chest tightened. “Why?” He looked at the letter in my hand. “Because she was trying to keep you safe.” I almost laughed. “Safe?” I held up the letter. “She literally told me not to trust you.” His expression didn't change. “I know.” That stopped me. “You know?” He nodded. “She always knew I'd be the one you'd question first.” I stared at him. “What does that mean?” He reached into the safe and pulled out one of the photographs. “Look.” I took it. It was old. My mother stood in front of the house, much younger than I remembered her. But she wasn't alone. There were three people beside her. One of them was a man I didn't recognize. The other— My breath caught. I looked at Adrian. Then back at the photograph. “That can't be you.” He said nothing. Because it was. I looked closer. He was younger. Much younger. But there was no mistaking him. The same eyes. The same scar near his eyebrow. The same expression that always made me feel like he knew something I didn't. “How old were you?” “Twenty.” I looked at my mother. She was smiling in the photograph. I'd never seen that smile before. Not in any picture I had of her. “Why were you with her?” Adrian took a slow breath. “That's complicated.” “Everything with you is complicated.” He looked at me. “I know.” I turned the photograph over. There was writing on the back. A date. And three initials. A.M. — E.R. — J.K. I frowned. “Who are they?” Adrian's expression changed. Just slightly. But I noticed. “Adrian.” He took the photograph from me. “You don't need to know that yet.” I stared at him. “No.” He looked up. “No?” “You don't get to decide what I need to know anymore.” Silence. I pointed toward the safe. “That is my mother's safe.” Then I pointed at the letter. “That is my mother's letter.” Then the photograph. “And that's my mother standing beside you twenty years ago.” My voice shook. “So I'm asking you one simple question.” He waited. “What happened to my mother?” His eyes lowered. “She found out something she wasn't supposed to.” “What?” “She found out who was watching her.” My stomach twisted. “And then?” “She disappeared.” I froze. “Disappeared?” Adrian nodded. “You told me she died.” “I told you what everyone believed.” “You let me believe she died?” “I was trying to protect you.” “Stop saying that!” My voice cracked through the room. “You keep using protection as an excuse for lying!” He didn't argue. That somehow made me angrier. “You knew her.” “Yes.” “You knew she was being watched.” “Yes.” “You knew something happened to her.” “Yes.” “And you still came into my life pretending you didn't know anything?” His face hardened. “I didn't pretend.” “You absolutely did.” “I was trying to keep you away from this.” He gestured toward the safe. “You failed.” “I know.” The room went quiet. I looked at the flash drive. “What is on that?” “I don't know.” I frowned. “You don't know?” “My mother gave me instructions.” “Your mother?” He nodded. “She contacted me after yours disappeared.” I stared at him. “You knew her family too?” “No.” “Then how did she know you?” Adrian hesitated. “She didn't know me.” “Then why would she contact you?” “Because of your mother.” My heart sank. “Why?” He didn't answer. “Adrian.” He looked at me. “Because your mother trusted me.” I laughed bitterly. “That's funny.” “What?” “My mother trusted you enough to give you a warning about me.” He didn't respond. I looked back at the photographs. There were more. I picked up another. My mother was standing beside a car. Another showed her inside a building I didn't recognize. Another had the same three people from the first photograph. But in this one, Adrian wasn't smiling. Neither was my mother. I turned it over. Nothing. I picked up the next. My hands stopped. It was a picture of me. I couldn't have been older than six. I was sitting on the front steps of the house. My mother was behind me. And someone else was standing in the background. A man. His face was blurred by the angle of the photograph. But I recognized the jacket. I had seen it before. Tonight. I looked at Adrian. “You saw him.” He took the photograph. His eyes narrowed. “Where did you see this?” “Outside.” “When?” “Before we came upstairs.” He stared at the picture. Then at the window. “Adrian?” He didn't answer. “Who is he?” “I don't know.” “You're lying.” “I said I don't know.” “You recognized him.” He looked at me. “No.” “Then why do you look scared?” His expression hardened. “I don't scare easily.” “You do right now.” He looked away. I grabbed the flash drive. “We're opening this.” “No.” I froze. “No?” “You don't know what's on it.” “Exactly.” “It could be dangerous.” “Everything you've kept from me is dangerous.” He stepped toward me. “Give it to me.” I held it tighter. “No.” “Listen to me.” “No. You listen to me.” I stepped back. “I've spent my entire life believing my mother abandoned me.” His expression softened. “She didn't.” I swallowed. “You don't know that.” “I do.” “How?” “Because I was there.” My heart stopped. “You were there when she left?” “No.” “Then when?” He stared at me for several seconds. “The night she disappeared.” I couldn't breathe. “What happened?” “She told me to take care of you.” My eyes burned. “And you did?” “I tried.” “Then why didn't you stay?” His silence answered before he did. “Because someone threatened you.” “Who?” “I don't know.” “You keep saying you don't know.” “Because I don't.” “Then what do you know?” He looked at the letter. “Your mother wasn't running away from you.” I stared at him. “She was running from someone.” My fingers trembled. “Who?” He shook his head. “We don't have enough information.” I looked at the flash drive. “Then let's get some.” I plugged it into the laptop on the desk. The screen lit up. One folder appeared. No name. Just a date. 06/14/2010 My birthday. I stared at it. Adrian went completely still. “Open it,” he said quietly. I clicked. There were dozens of files. Photographs. Documents. Videos. And one audio recording. I clicked the first video. The screen went black. Then my mother's face appeared. Older than in the photographs. Tired. Frightened. She looked directly into the camera. “If you're watching this…” She paused. Her eyes filled with tears. “…then they found you.” I stopped breathing. Adrian moved closer to the screen. My mother continued. “I don't know how much time I have left.” She looked down for a moment. Then back at the camera. “There's something you need to understand.” Her voice shook. “Your father wasn't the only person who knew.” I looked at Adrian. He stared at the screen. My mother continued. “Adrian will tell you he tried to protect you.” A pause. “He did.” I blinked. “But that doesn't mean you can trust him.” The video ended. Neither of us moved. I looked at Adrian. “You knew about this.” “No.” “You knew she recorded it.” “No.” “You knew she was going to say your name.” “No.” “Then why do you look like you've seen a ghost?” He didn't answer. The laptop screen went black. Then a second file opened by itself. A photograph appeared. My mother. Adrian. And another man. This time, the man's face wasn't blurred. I stared at him. I knew that face. I'd seen it before. Not in photographs. Not in my memories. On the news. My heart dropped. “That's…” Adrian grabbed the laptop. “Turn it off.” “Who is that?” “Turn it off.” “Who is he?” He looked at me. And for the first time since I'd met him— Adrian looked genuinely afraid. “That,” he said quietly, “is the man your mother was running from.” The screen flickered. One final file appeared. A single sentence. HE KNOWS WHERE YOU ARE.

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