Every creak of the floorboards, every shadow cast by the flickering candles, seemed to carry an unspoken warning. Andrea's words from the previous night echoed in my mind like a haunting melody: "Time is running out."
I sat in my room, staring at the empty compartment where my father's documents should have been. My mother sat across from me, her hands wringing nervously. Her face was pale, her lips pressed into a thin line as though she was holding back a flood of emotions.
"They knew," I said softly, breaking the silence. "Someone knew where the documents were hidden. That's the only explanation."
My mother nodded, her gaze fixed on the floor. "Your father was careful," she said. "But even he wasn't infallible. If someone in this family found out about his plans…" She didn't finish the sentence, but she didn't need to. The implication was clear.
I leaned forward, determination surging through me. "Then we find out who took them," I said. "We find out, and we take them back."
She looked up at me, her eyes filled with worry. "Tiana, this isn't a game. If you push too hard, they won't hesitate to eliminate you. Andrea is already watching you like a hawk."
"I know the risks," I said, my voice firm. "But what choice do we have? If we don't fight back, we'll never be free."
My mother hesitated, then sighed. "There might be a way," she said. "Your father had a confidant—someone he trusted completely. If anyone knows what happened to the documents, it's him."
"Who?" I asked, my heart racing.
"Victor," she said. "He was your father's best friend. But he left the family years ago, disappeared without a trace. No one knows where he is now."
A flicker of hope sparked in my chest. "Then we find him," I said. "He might be our only chance."
The search for Victor proved to be more difficult than I had anticipated. My mother and I couldn't risk drawing too much attention to ourselves, so we worked in secret, combing through old letters and photographs for any clue to his whereabouts.
It was late one night when we finally found something: a faded postcard tucked into the pages of one of my father's old books.
The postcard was from a small town several hours away, and the message scrawled on the back was cryptic:
"The stars are brighter here. Perhaps you'll find peace under their light."
I turned the postcard over in my hands, studying the worn edges. "Do you think this is where he went?" I asked my mother.
"It's possible," she said. "Your father used to talk about how Victor loved the countryside. He always said it was the only place he felt truly free."
"Then that's where I'll go," I said.
She grabbed my arm, her eyes wide with fear. "Tiana, you can't go alone. If Andrea or Peter finds out—"
"I'll be careful," I promised. "But we can't just sit here and wait for them to tighten the noose. This might be our only lead."
She hesitated, then reluctantly nodded. "Just… promise me you'll come back," she said.
"I will," I said, hoping I could keep that promise.
The journey to the small town was uneventful, but as I neared my destination, unease began to creep in. The town was quiet, almost eerily so, and the streets were lined with old, weathered buildings that seemed to hold secrets of their own.
I found a modest inn on the edge of town and checked in under a false name, paying in cash to avoid leaving a trail.
Once I was settled, I began asking discreet questions about Victor, describing him as an old family friend I was hoping to reconnect with.
Most people shook their heads, claiming they didn't know anyone by that name. But eventually, an elderly man at a local café leaned in and whispered, "If you're looking for Victor, you might want to check the cabin near the lake. He doesn't come into town much, but folks say he's been living out there for years."
The lake was about a mile outside of town, and the path leading to it was overgrown with wildflowers and dense foliage. As I approached the cabin, a sense of trepidation settled over me.
The structure was small and weathered, but smoke curled from the chimney, a sign that someone was home.
I knocked on the door, my heart pounding. For a moment, there was only silence. Then the door creaked open, and a man in his late forties peered out. His face was lined with age and weariness, but his eyes were sharp.
"Who are you?" he asked, his voice gruff.
"My name is Tiana," I said. "I'm—"
"You're Martin's daughter," he interrupted, his eyes narrowing.
I nodded. "Yes. My mother said you were my father's best friend. I need your help."
Victor hesitated, then stepped aside to let me in. The interior of the cabin was sparse but tidy, with a small fireplace crackling in the corner.
"Your father and I were close," he said, gesturing for me to sit. "But that was a long time ago. Why are you here now?"
I explained everything—my father's disappearance, the missing documents, Andrea's threats, and my mother's growing fear. Victor listened in silence, his expression unreadable.
When I finished, he leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Your father was a good man," he said. "But he was playing a dangerous game.
Those documents… they were his insurance policy. He wanted to expose the family's corruption, but he also knew it could get him killed."
"Do you know where they are?" I asked.
Victor nodded slowly. "He gave them to me for safekeeping," he said. "But I couldn't keep them here. It was too risky. I hid them in a place only he and I knew about."
"Where?"
He hesitated, his eyes scanning the room as though checking for hidden dangers. "There's an old safe house in the woods, about ten miles from here," he said. "That's where I hid them. But getting there won't be easy. If the family suspects you're looking for them, they'll do everything in their power to stop you."
"I don't care," I said. "I have to try."
Victor studied me for a moment, then nodded. "All right," he said. "I'll take you there. But we have to move quickly. If anyone's watching, we can't give them time to react."
The journey to the safe house was tense and silent. Victor led the way, his movements swift and sure despite the dense underbrush. I followed close behind, my senses on high alert for any sign of danger.
When we finally reached the safe house, it was almost anticlimactic. The structure was small and unassuming, hidden beneath a canopy of trees.
Victor led me inside, where he uncovered a hidden compartment in the floor. Inside was a metal box, locked and dusty from years of neglect.
"This is it," he said, handing me the box.
I opened it carefully, my breath catching as I saw the contents: folders stuffed with papers, photographs, and even a few USB drives.
"This is everything," Victor said. "Your father documented everything—names, dates, transactions. If this gets out, it'll destroy them."
A surge of hope and determination filled me. This was what I had been searching for.
But as I closed the box, a sound outside made us freeze. Footsteps.
Victor grabbed my arm, his face pale. "They've found us," he whispered.
Before I could respond, the door burst open, and Andrea stepped inside, flanked by two men. His expression was cold and furious, his eyes locking onto the box in my hands.
"Well, well," he said, his voice dripping with mockery. "I knew you were up to something, Tiana. But I didn't think you'd get this far."
Victor stepped in front of me, his stance protective. "Leave her alone," he said.
Andrea smirked. "You should've stayed out of this, Victor. Now you've both made yourselves targets."
I clutched the box tightly, my mind racing. There was no way out, but I couldn't let Andrea take the evidence.
"Run," Victor whispered to me. "I'll hold them off."
"No," I said, my voice trembling. "I'm not leaving you."
"Go!" he shouted, shoving me toward the back door.
I hesitated, then turned and ran, clutching the box as gunshots rang out behind me.
The woods blurred around me as I ran, my heart pounding in my ears. I didn't stop until I reached the edge of town, my body trembling with exhaustion and fear.
I had the evidence. But at what cost?
I couldn't shake the image of Victor standing in that doorway, facing Andrea and his men. And I couldn't ignore the truth: this was only the beginning.
Andrea wouldn't stop until he got what he wanted. And now, the game had turned deadly.