Chapter One: Shadows of the past

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The quiet mornings in Sittard were the moments Emii treasured the most. The sleepy town, with its cobblestone streets and centuries-old houses, was a comforting backdrop to the chaos her life had become. The faint scent of freshly brewed coffee filled her small apartment as sunlight spilled through the window, casting a warm glow across the room. It was peaceful—a fragile peace she feared wouldn't last much longer.

She leaned against the kitchen counter, staring out the window as the world outside came to life. The distant hum of cars, the laughter of children heading to school—it was all so familiar, yet today, it felt like a distant memory. There was something in the air, a tension she couldn't quite shake, but she couldn't put her finger on why. The life she thought she had all figured out seemed to be slipping through her grasp.

Her phone buzzed on the table, jolting her out of her thoughts. It was a message from Dennis: 

*"Morning, babe. See you tonight. Don't be late. Love you."*

She smiled softly at the text, but there was a heaviness behind her eyes. Dennis had always been loving, but lately, his love felt different—more intense, more demanding. There were moments when his protectiveness bordered on possessiveness, and she couldn't ignore the growing feeling of being watched, even when he wasn't around. Still, she told herself it was just him being overprotective. Dennis only wanted to keep her safe, especially with the way his life had become more secretive and dangerous lately. But why did it always feel like there was something he wasn't telling her?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a familiar name flashing across her screen—Michell. 

*"Coffee later? We need to talk."*

Michell's timing was impeccable, as always. Emii smiled, feeling a wave of relief wash over her. Michell had been her rock since they were kids. They had a bond no one else could touch—a connection that transcended words, and sometimes even logic. Whatever was weighing on Emii's mind, Michell always knew, even before Emii did.

She quickly typed out a response, agreeing to meet later in the afternoon, before grabbing her bag and heading out the door. The walk to class at Hotel Management School Maastricht was familiar, but today, each step felt heavier. The world around her, so vibrant and alive, felt distant, like she was walking through a dream she couldn't wake up from.


The day dragged on, each lecture blending into the next as Emii's mind wandered. She tried to focus on the intricacies of hotel management, but her thoughts kept circling back to Dennis. She had always admired his strength and determination, but there was another side to him—a side that scared her. She had seen flashes of it in the way he spoke about certain people, in the cryptic phone calls he would take late at night. Part of her didn't want to know the truth, but part of her feared she already did.

By the time she met up with Michell at their usual café, the unease in her chest had grown into a full-blown storm. Michell was already seated by the window, her signature leather jacket draped over the chair, looking as effortlessly cool as always. Her wavy brown hair framed her sharp hazel eyes, which immediately locked onto Emii as she walked in.

"You okay?" Michell asked, concern etched across her face as Emii slid into the chair across from her.

Emii forced a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Yeah, just a long day."

Michell wasn't buying it. She never did. "Emii, you've been off for weeks. Is it Dennis again?"

Emii bit her lip, her gaze dropping to the table. She trusted Michell with her life, but there were things about Dennis she wasn't sure she could even put into words. Things she didn't fully understand herself.

"He's just...he's been acting different," Emii admitted quietly. "I don't know if it's because of work or something else, but it's like he's always on edge. He barely talks about what he's doing anymore, and when I ask, he just says it's nothing to worry about."

Michell frowned, leaning forward. "And you believe him?"

Emii hesitated. "I want to."

"That's not the same as trusting him." Michell's voice was gentle but firm. "I've heard things, Emii. About what Dennis is mixed up in."

The words hung in the air between them like a heavy fog. Emii's stomach twisted. She had heard the rumors too, whispers about Dennis's involvement with dangerous people, criminal activities that stretched far beyond anything she could imagine. But she had always pushed those thoughts away, convincing herself that Dennis would never pull her into something so dark. He loved her. He wouldn't let anything happen to her.

"I know you love him," Michell continued, her voice softening, "but love doesn't mean ignoring the warning signs."

Emii's heart pounded in her chest. She wanted to defend Dennis, to tell Michell that she was wrong, but the truth was, Emii wasn't so sure anymore.


That night, as Emii stood in front of her bathroom mirror getting ready to meet Dennis, her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. Michell's words echoed in her head, mixing with the nagging doubts that had been building for weeks. She stared at her reflection, barely recognizing the girl in the mirror. She used to feel so sure of everything—of her future, of Dennis, of her life. Now, everything felt uncertain.

As she slipped on her jacket, she noticed something sticking out of Dennis's jacket pocket. Curiosity getting the better of her, she pulled it out—a small, folded piece of paper with a name and an address scribbled on it. Her breath caught in her throat. The name wasn't hers, and neither was the address. It wasn't anything innocent, either.

Her hands trembled as she stared at the paper. Was this what Michell had been talking about? Was this the proof that Dennis was involved in something far more dangerous than she had ever imagined? And if so, how deep did it go? How much danger was she really in?

Her phone buzzed. It was Dennis. 

*"Be ready in ten. We need to talk."* 

The words sent a chill down her spine. What was Dennis about to tell her? And could she handle the truth?

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