The office was quieter than usual when Elise arrived. The hum of the fluorescent lights, the murmur of distant voices, it all felt muted, distant. Greg was standing by the window, his back turned to her as he stared out over the city. His face was shadowed, his features tight with worry.
"Sit down, Elise," he said without turning around. His voice was colder than usual. "There's something you need to see."
Elise hesitated, the tension thickening in the room. She wasn't sure if she was more afraid of what he was about to show her or what he was going to say. She sat down, facing him, her hands clenched tightly on her lap.
Greg finally turned, his expression unreadable. He held a folder in his hands. "This came in last night," he said, dropping it on the desk in front of her. "A letter."
Elise opened the folder, her heart skipping when she saw the contents. It was a letter, typed neatly, with no return address or signature. The words were stark, chilling in their simplicity.
"Elise, you're getting closer to the truth, but not in the way you think. The key to Mia Rutherford's disappearance isn't in the present. It's in the past. You've been looking for answers in all the wrong places. The truth has always been right in front of you. The next move is yours, but choose wisely."
Elise stared at the words. The letter felt like a trap, but it also felt like a message—like someone knew her every step, her every move. Someone was watching her. She felt it now, deep in her bones.
"Who sent this?" Elise asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Greg shook his head. "We don't know. But that's not the point. It's the message itself. It's almost like someone's been watching your every move."
The weight of his words settled over her like a suffocating cloud. Elise stood up abruptly, pacing back and forth in the cramped office. Her mind was spinning, the room closing in on her. The truth has always been right in front of you. What did that even mean? Was the answer something she had overlooked all along?
Her thoughts felt like jagged pieces, each one sharp and cutting, but none of them connecting. The case was slipping through her fingers, and the harder she grasped, the more she felt like she was losing herself.
"You need to step back, Elise," Greg said, his voice softer now. "You're too close to this. I can see it. This obsession… it's starting to cloud your judgment."
She turned to face him, her eyes wide with frustration. "You don't get it, Greg! This isn't just a story. This is bigger than that. Mia's disappearance, the others—it's all connected. I can feel it. I'm not just chasing some headline. I'm chasing the truth."
Greg's gaze softened, but there was an edge of concern in his eyes. "The truth can destroy you, Elise. Sometimes, it's better not to know."
But Elise was already walking towards the door, ignoring his words. She couldn't stop now. She had come too far.