Chapter 3 - The Secret Behind The Picture
The photo loaded slowly.
At first, I only saw darkness.
A hallway.
A piece of furniture.
Then the image became clearer.
And my entire body went cold.
It was my apartment.
Not a similar apartment.
Not a random place.
My apartment.
The picture had been taken from inside my home.
From the angle, whoever took it had been standing near my bedroom door.
I grabbed Michael's phone.
"Where did you get this?"
Michael looked at me.
"Rachel sent it."
"Why would Rachel have a picture of my apartment?"
He didn't answer.
Because he didn't know.
And that scared me more.
I zoomed in.
The photo showed my living room.
The couch.
The bookshelf.
The painting above the fireplace.
Everything was exactly where it should be.
But there was one thing that made my hands start shaking.
On the coffee table was a folder.
A black folder I had never seen before.
Michael noticed my expression.
"What?"
I pointed at the screen.
"That wasn't there before."
"What wasn't?"
"The folder."
He looked closer.
Then his face changed.
"Claire..."
I knew that tone.
The same tone people used when they knew something was wrong but didn't want to say it.
"What?"
Michael took his phone back.
"Rachel said she found something."
"Found what?"
He looked at the message again.
"She didn't say."
I stood up.
"We need to go."
Michael grabbed his jacket.
"Claire, wait."
"No."
I looked at him.
"That picture was taken inside my home."
My voice became quieter.
"Someone was in my apartment."
The excitement from our fake revenge plan disappeared.
This wasn't about making Daniel jealous anymore.
This was something else.
Something we didn't understand.
We left the restaurant immediately.
The drive back was silent.
For the first time since meeting Michael, neither of us knew what to say.
The city lights passed outside the window.
Normally, I would have been thinking about Daniel.
About Rachel.
About the betrayal.
But now my mind was somewhere else.
Who took that picture?
And why?
When we arrived at my building, I noticed something strange.
The lobby door was open.
It was always locked after eight.
Michael noticed too.
"Did you leave it like that?"
I shook my head.
"No."
We walked inside.
Every step felt heavier.
The elevator seemed slower than usual.
When the doors opened on my floor, I immediately saw my apartment door.
Closed.
Locked.
Exactly how I left it.
For a moment, I felt relieved.
Maybe I was overreacting.
Maybe there was an explanation.
Maybe—
Then Michael pointed.
"Claire."
I looked down.
A small piece of paper was lying near the door.
My name was written on it.
Not printed.
Handwritten.
I picked it up.
My fingers trembled.
There were only four words.
"Stop looking for answers."
I stared at it.
Michael took it from my hand.
His jaw tightened.
"This isn't funny."
"No."
I unlocked the door.
The apartment was dark.
Too dark.
I reached for the light switch.
Nothing happened.
The power was off.
My heart started beating faster.
"Did you pay your electric bill?"
I looked at him.
"Of course."
Michael pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight.
We stepped inside.
Everything looked normal.
Almost.
The couch was untouched.
The kitchen was clean.
Nothing appeared stolen.
But something felt different.
Like someone had been there.
Michael walked toward the living room.
"Claire."
I followed his eyes.
The black folder from the picture was sitting on the coffee table.
My breath caught.
"It wasn't there when I left."
Michael didn't touch it.
"Then who put it there?"
I slowly walked closer.
The folder had no name.
No label.
Nothing.
Just a small white envelope inside.
My name was written on the front.
CLAIRE BENNETT.
I looked at Michael.
"Should I open it?"
He hesitated.
That hesitation told me everything.
He was scared too.
But I opened it anyway.
Inside was a single piece of paper.
A printed message.
"You think Daniel chose Rachel."
I read the sentence twice.
Then continued.
"You think this was about love."
My stomach tightened.
Michael moved closer.
The next line was worse.
"You are wrong."
I dropped the paper onto the table.
"What is this?"
Michael looked around the room.
"Someone is trying to scare you."
"Why?"
He didn't answer.
Because neither of us knew.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I looked at Michael.
He shook his head.
"Don't."
But I answered.
"Hello?"
Silence.
I heard breathing.
A person on the other end.
"Who is this?"
Still nothing.
Then a voice finally spoke.
A woman's voice.
Quiet.
Shaking.
"Claire..."
My entire body froze.
I knew that voice.
Not because I had heard it recently.
Because I had heard it for ten years.
"Rachel?"
Michael looked at me.
The voice continued.
"Don't trust Daniel."
My grip tightened around the phone.
"What are you talking about?"
A pause.
Then Rachel whispered:
"He didn't tell you the truth."
My heart started racing.
"What truth?"
The line went silent.
Then Rachel said something that made me feel like the room had tilted.
"Daniel didn't leave me because he loved me."
I couldn't speak.
Michael stepped closer.
"Claire, put it on speaker."
I did.
Rachel's voice filled the apartment.
"He left because he was afraid."
"Afraid of what?"
Another pause.
Longer this time.
Then:
"Afraid that you would find out what he did."
The call ended.
I stood there.
Frozen.
Because suddenly everything had changed.
Daniel leaving wasn't the whole story.
Rachel wasn't just the woman who betrayed me.
She was scared.
And people only sounded scared when they knew something was coming.
Michael looked at me.
"What did he do?"
I shook my head.
"I don't know."
Then my phone received another notification.
A message.
From Daniel.
I opened it.
Only one sentence.
"Claire, if Rachel contacted you, you need to leave your apartment immediately."
I stared at the screen.
Then another message appeared.
A photo.
My bedroom door.
Taken moments ago.
May you like
And underneath it were three words:
"He's already inside."
