Chapter 3 - July 14thEmma did not open the door.
"Emma, please."
Adrian's voice sounded exhausted.
She moved silently toward the kitchen.
There was a small balcony.
One exit.
One chance.
"Emma, I know you're scared."
She grabbed her phone.
Her father's number went straight to voicemail.
She tried again.
Nothing.
Adrian knocked harder.
"I'm not here to hurt you."
Emma whispered to herself.
"Then why are you here?"
She checked the window.
The black SUV was still outside.
Adrian was not alone.
Two men stood near the entrance.
Emma's heart raced.
Her phone buzzed.
A message.
Unknown number.
Do not let Adrian inside.
Then another.
Use the balcony. Now.
Emma stared at the screen.
She had no idea who was helping her.
But she no longer had time to decide.
She grabbed her purse and the ultrasound image.
Then she climbed onto the balcony.
The apartment was only on the second floor.
There was a fire escape below.
Emma stepped down.
A sudden noise came from inside.
The front door opened.
Adrian shouted.
"Emma!"
She climbed faster.
"Stop!"
She reached the alley.
Then ran.
The cold air burned her lungs.
She didn't stop until she reached a crowded twenty-four-hour café three blocks away.
Only then did she look at her phone.
Another unknown message waited.
You need to know about July 14th.
Then an address.
A hotel.
Room 814.
Emma's hands shook.
Why that room?
Why that date?
She remembered July 14th.
Three years earlier.
It had been the anniversary of her mother's death.
Emma had been devastated.
She had spent the day at the cemetery.
Adrian had promised to meet her.
He never came.
He said he had been called into an emergency business meeting.
That was the explanation she accepted.
At least until now.
Emma ordered coffee but couldn't drink it.
She searched her old messages.
There.
July 14th.
At 10:47 p.m.
Adrian had texted:
I'm sorry. Something came up. I'll explain tomorrow.
She had never questioned it.
Now she opened the hotel website.
Room 814 existed.
But the hotel had changed owners two years ago.
Emma's phone rang.
She answered.
"Hello?"
The stranger.
"Go to the hotel."
"Who are you?"
"I told you. You don't know me."
"How do you know about July 14th?"
"Because I was there."
Emma went silent.
"You were there?"
"Yes."
"What happened?"
"You need to see it yourself."
The call ended.
Emma found a taxi.
Thirty minutes later, she stood in the hotel lobby.
Room 814 was now used as a private office.
A manager escorted her upstairs.
"Someone prepaid access for you."
Emma's throat tightened.
"Who?"
The manager shook his head.
"No name."
He handed her a keycard.
Room 814 was dark.
Emma entered.
There was only one table.
One chair.
And a small envelope.
Her name was written across it.
She opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
Emma's hand flew to her mouth.
It showed Adrian standing beside Vivian.
But Vivian wasn't the woman Emma knew.
She was younger.
Different clothes.
Different hair.
And standing between them was a third person.
Emma stared.
Her father.
The date printed beneath the photograph was July 14th.
Three years ago.
Emma's knees weakened.
She flipped the photograph over.
On the back was a handwritten sentence:
Your father paid Adrian to leave you.
Emma's breathing stopped.
"No."
The room seemed to tilt.
She pulled out her phone and called her father.
Voicemail again.
Then footsteps sounded behind her.
Emma froze.
The door slowly closed.
She spun around.
A tall man stood in the doorway.
Dark coat.
Sharp eyes.
He looked nothing like Adrian.
But Emma knew his face.
She had seen it once before.
At her mother's funeral.
The man stared at the ultrasound photo in her hand.
Then he said quietly:
"So it's true."
Emma stepped back.
"What?"
His gaze dropped to her stomach.
"You're carrying his child."
Emma's blood went cold.
May you like
The man locked the door.
"Then we have a much bigger problem."
