Chapter 20 – Shadows of the Past
Morning sunlight streamed through the wide windows of Adrian's penthouse, painting the room in a golden glow. Lena stirred awake, her mind still tangled in fragments of yesterday's events—the stares, the whispers, and Adrian's voice cutting through them all: She's my partner.
Her chest warmed at the memory, but the warmth didn't erase the unease that clung to her. It was as if the city itself was holding its breath, waiting for something.
Adrian was already gone when she stepped into the living room, his absence marked only by a steaming cup of coffee set neatly on the counter. A note rested beside it in his precise handwriting: Back-to-back meetings. Stay here. I'll send someone if you need anything.
Lena smiled faintly but felt the edge in those words. Stay here. Protected. Safe. As though danger lurked right outside the door.
The day stretched quietly. Too quietly.
By afternoon, she decided to visit her mother. It had been weeks since she last saw her, and a dull ache in her chest told her she couldn't keep hiding in Adrian's world without touching her own.
Her mother's modest apartment was a stark contrast to the penthouse—narrow, old furniture, curtains slightly faded. Yet it held a warmth the skyscrapers never could.
"Lena," her mother gasped, pulling her into a hug. "You look… different."
"Different?" Lena asked with a nervous laugh.
Her mother pulled back, studying her. "Like you're carrying too much. Is everything alright?"
Lena forced a smile. "I'm fine, Mom. Really. Just… a little overwhelmed."
But as they sat down, her mother grew quieter, her gaze flickering to a pile of unopened mail on the table. Lena followed her eyes, frowning.
Bills. Stacked, unopened.
Her mother quickly reached over, sliding them aside, but not fast enough.
"Mom…" Lena's voice softened. "Is something wrong?"
"Nothing I can't handle," her mother said too quickly. "You don't need to worry. You have your own life to live now."
But the unease in Lena's chest deepened. Something about the way her mother avoided her gaze sent a chill down her spine.
On her way back, her phone buzzed with an unknown number. She hesitated before answering.
"Lena Hart?" a man's voice asked. Low. Smooth. Too familiar. "Funny how the past never really stays buried, isn't it?"
The line went dead before she could respond.
Lena froze, staring at her reflection in the elevator's mirrored walls. Her heart hammered in her chest, a whisper echoing through her mind.
Someone is digging…