I barely slept that night.
The letter lay on my bedside table, its words carved into my thoughts like fire.
"The one you fear is not your enemy. The one you trust is."
I turned over again, staring at the ceiling. Adrian's face kept flashing in my mindhis cold eyes, the way he'd looked at me the night of the fire.
Could it be him?
Or was there someone else behind everything?
The more I thought, the more I realized nothing about my life made sense anymore.
By morning, I made up my mind.
If I wanted answers, I had to find the woman with the silver locket.
I pulled out the list of old Blackwood employees from before the "accident."
Most were gone, replaced when Adrian took over. But one name caught my eye.
Lydia Hale – Personal Assistant to Emma Blackwood.
My old assistant. My friend.
She'd disappeared right after my death. No one ever found her.
But a rumor had once said she was seen in the outskirtsliving quietly under another name.
By noon, I was in my car, heading for the old district.
The roads were quiet, lined with broken buildings and flickering lights.
It felt like driving into a forgotten part of my past.
I found her small flower shop at the corner of a narrow street.
A hand-painted sign read: "Hale's Blooms."
When I stepped inside, the air was heavy with the smell of roses and lilies.
And then I saw her older, thinner, but unmistakable.
She looked up. Her eyes widened. The pot she was holding slipped from her hands and shattered.
"Emma?" she whispered.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
I felt the weight of her gaze, the fear, the disbelief.
"I go by Emma Carter now," I said softly. "But yes…It's me."
She took a shaky step back. "No. You can't be. I saw your body."
"I came back," I said simply. "And I need your help."
Her lips trembled. "If you came back, that means it's true…"
"What's true?" I asked.
Her eyes filled with tears. "She said it would happen."
I froze. "Who said that?"
She walked to the back of the shop and came out holding a small velvet pouch.
Inside it was a silver locket.
I felt my heart stop.
"This belonged to you," Lydia said, her voice breaking. "You gave it to me the night before the fire. You told me to protect it… that it held the truth about your death."
I reached out and touched it gently. The metal felt warmalmost alive.
"Did you ever open it?" I whispered.
Lydia shook her head. "No. You said it was cursed."
I turned the locket over in my hand. There was a faint engraving at the backtwo initials:
A.H.
Adrian Hale.
The room suddenly felt smaller. The air is heavier.
My pulse quickened. "Lydia… did you ever see Adrian that night?"
She hesitated. "I saw someone wearing his ring."
My chest tightened. "His ring?"
"Yes. The gold one with the black stone. But I didn't see his facejust the hand."
My thoughts spun. Could someone have set him up? Or was it really him?
I opened the locket with trembling hands
Inside was a folded photograph burned around the edges.
It showed three people: me, Adrian, and Clara, standing in front of my old company building.
But behind us, reflected in the glass, was a fourth figure.
Half-hidden, watching.
And he was wearing Adrian's ring.
My blood ran cold.
The reflection's face was faintbut the outline was familiar.
Someone I hadn't seen since the day I died.
I turned to Lydia. "Do you have any idea who that could be?"
She shook her head slowly. "I thought it was him, but now… I'm not sure."
Before I could ask more, a knock sounded at the door.
Lydia went pale.
"Who is it?" I asked.
She whispered, "He found you."
I looked toward the doorand through the frosted glass, I saw a shadow.
Tall. Still. Watching.
The doorknob turned slowly.
"Emma Carter?" a deep voice called from outside. "We need to talk."