“We need you to return the laptop and badge by 5 p.m.”
I read the message, the words cold and final, and felt the weight of the ring slip onto my palm. A sudden, sharp idea struck: what if the woman I’d helped wasn’t a random stranger at all? I glanced at the timestamp on Mara’s last message, a voicemail left in a voice‑mail box that showed a missed call from a number I didn’t recognize. The number… it was the same one that had been flashing on my work phone for weeks, the one Nick used when he called in after hours. My mind raced. The notebook, the ring, the wolf—something was pulling together.
I started the car, determined to uncover the connection, unaware that the city’s shadows were already turning toward me.
Section 3
The drive back to the office was a blur of red lights and empty streets. My mind kept replaying the wolf logo, the name Evelyn Hart, and the sapphire ring that had felt like a promise. I pulled into the underground parking garage, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead.
Inside the building, the hallway was deserted. The receptionist’s desk was still lit, a single coffee mug steaming in the quiet. I placed the notebook on the desk, the ring still in my hand, and moved toward the conference room where Nick had dismissed me.
On the wall, the pitch deck still glowed, a ghost of my effort. I stared at the slide titled “Future Growth.” The words seemed meaningless now. I took a deep breath and headed to Nick’s office.
He was there, leaning against his desk, a half‑empty bottle of water on the side. He didn’t look up as I entered.
“You left early,” he said, voice flat.
I placed the ring on the desk, the notebook beside it. “I think you should see this,” I said.
He glanced at the wolf. His eyes flickered—recognition? He opened the notebook, skimmed the page with Evelyn’s name, then looked up.
“Evelyn Hart… this is my sister.”
My heart hammered. “Your sister?” I asked, voice barely a whisper.
Nick’s jaw tightened. “She disappeared three years ago. No one ever found her. Police closed the case. I… I thought she was dead.”
A cold wave ran through me. “The woman on the road… she mentioned a sister.” I stared at the ring. “She had a sapphire. Evelyn’s birthday is March 14 — the sapphire was her birthstone.”
Nick stared at the ring, then at the notebook, his hand trembling. “You… you saved my sister.”
He took a step back, the weight of the revelation pressing down. “I should have… I should have called you earlier.” He gestured to the empty conference room. “We have a problem.”
He pulled a file from his drawer, a stack of legal documents with a seal, and slid one across to me. The header read: “Non‑Disclosure Agreement – Immediate Effect.”
My eyes scanned the cramped page. “You’re saying… you want me to stay silent about her?” I asked.
Nick’s voice was low, urgent. “If you go public, the agency could be sued. The client, the investors— everything collapses.” He leaned in, his breath smelling of coffee and stale ambition.
My mind swirled. I could quit again, walk away, and never look back. Or I could…
The phone on the desk buzzed, flashing a notification: “Incoming call – Unknown.” The screen displayed a number starting with 555— the same area code that had been on the voicemail earlier. I hesitated, the ring still heavy in my palm.
Section 4
I answered, and a voice I recognized from the hospital hallway whispered, “Sebastian?” The words were ragged, the same as the whisper that had slipped from Mara’s lips.
