Whispered Shadows

Chapter Twenty-One

The hotel room is dimly lit, the single lamp on the desk casting a warm but inadequate glow over the scattered evidence on the bed. The rusted box from the lake sits in the center, its contents spread out: the waterlogged letter, Gia's delicate gold necklace, and the eerie photograph of the lake.

Noa sits cross-legged on the couch, her icy blue eyes fixed on the letter as if willing to reveal more than the faded, taunting words. Asher is leaning back in the chair by the desk, arms crossed, his dark eyes darting between Noa and me. The tension is thick, the kind that makes the air hard to breathe.

"You're telling me you pulled this thing from the lake?" Asher says finally, his voice skeptical but laced with a grudging respect. "And it's just... what? A dead end?"

I sit on the edge of the couch on the other end, elbows resting on my knees as I run a hand through my curls. "It's not a dead end. It's a piece of the puzzle. Shadow left this for Gia—or maybe us—to find."

Asher's brow furrows, and he shifts forward in his chair. "And what does this puzzle look like to you? Because from where I'm sitting, it's a whole lot of nothing."

"It's not nothing," Noa snaps, her voice sharp. She picks up the butterfly necklace, holding it tightly in her hand. "This belonged to Gia. She wore it all the time. Shadow didn't just leave it behind by accident."

Asher raises an eyebrow, leaning back again. "Alright, fine. So, he's leaving breadcrumbs. What does this one tell us?"

I glance at Noa, whose face is flushed with frustration. The shadows under her eyes are more pronounced tonight, and I know the weight of all this is bearing down on her. But even now, she looks determined. Fierce.

"Look deeper," I say, repeating the note's last line. "That's what he said. 'It's all about her.' He's making it personal. This isn't just about Gia—it's about Noa, too."

Noa stiffens at my words, her gaze darting at me. "What do you mean? Why me?"

I hesitate, choosing my words carefully. "I think he's drawing you in for a reason. Maybe because you remind him of Gia, or maybe because you're the only one who's been able to pick up her trail. Whatever it is, it's not random."

Noa's grip on the necklace tightens, her knuckles turning white. "I know that already. I've felt it."

Her admission sends a pang through me, one that I immediately tamp down. I need to stay focused.

"Alright," I say, pulling the photograph toward me. "Let's start with what we do know. This picture of the lake—why leave it? What's significant about it?"

"It's a reference point," Asher offers, his tone begrudgingly cooperative now. "A marker. Shadow's saying, 'Look here.'"

"But we did look there," Noa says, her voice edged with frustration. "The lake gave us the box, but what else?"

"Maybe it's not about the lake itself," I suggest, my gaze fixed on the photograph. "Maybe it's about what happened there. Gia spent a lot of time at that lake, right?"

Noa nods slowly. "She loved it there. It was her favorite place to think, to clear her head."

"And Shadow knew that," I say, meeting her gaze. "He's been watching her for a long time. He knew her routines, her habits. He knew exactly where to leave this for her to find."

"But she didn't find it," Noa points out, her voice soft now. "She never got the chance."

The room falls silent at her words, the weight of them settling heavily over all of us.

I shake my head. "Not much. Just more of Shadow's games. He knew Gia would understand what he meant—knew her well enough to leave cryptic messages she could decipher. But without her, we're working blind."