Zara sat on the floor of her father's old study, surrounded by a sea of documents. The air was thick with dust, but she hardly noticed. Her heart pounded as she sifted through letter after letter, each one deepening her confusion—and her dread.
Her father's handwriting stared back at her from the pages, sharp and precise, as if he were speaking to her from the grave. The letters were addressed to Adeyemi, and the contents painted a damning picture.
"Adeyemi, the artifacts must be secured at all costs. Greg is becoming a problem. He's too sentimental, too concerned with 'doing the right thing.' If he gets his hands on the artifacts, our plan will be ruined."
Zara's hands trembled as she read the words again. Her father hadn't been the hero she had idolized. He had been working with Adeyemi all along—manipulating her, even from beyond the grave.
She found another letter, this one more recent, judging by the faded ink.
"Adeyemi, if something happens to me, you must ensure Zara delivers the artifact. She trusts you. Use that trust. The society's vision cannot fail."
A cold chill ran down her spine. Her father had planned for this. He had used her love for him, her grief, as a weapon.
Her phone buzzed on the desk, jolting her out of her thoughts. It was Jake. His message was brief, but urgent.
"I need to talk to you. Please meet me at the park."
For a moment, she considered ignoring it. But anger and curiosity warred within her. She grabbed the letters and shoved them into her bag. If Jake had been part of this, she needed answers.
Zara arrived at the park just as the sun was setting. The golden light cast long shadows across the grass, but the beauty of the scene was lost on her. Jake was waiting by the swings, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.
"Zara," he began, his voice soft.
She didn't let him finish. "How long?" she demanded, her voice shaking. "How long have you been lying to me?"
Jake's face paled. "Zara, I—"
She yanked the letters from her bag and thrust them at him. "Don't you dare lie to me again."
He took the papers, his hands trembling as he read. When he looked up, his eyes were filled with regret. "I didn't know it was this bad."
"You didn't know?" Zara snapped. "You've been spying on me for them, haven't you? Watching me, guiding me, making sure I handed over the artifact."
Jake's silence was answer enough.
"I thought I could trust you," Zara whispered, her voice breaking.
"You can," he said desperately. "I didn't want to hurt you. I—I didn't know how to tell you the truth."
"The truth?" she repeated bitterly. "You don't even know what that is."
She turned away, tears streaming down her face. Jake reached out, but she pulled away.
"Stay away from me, Jake," she said, her voice cold. "I never want to see you again."