Whispered Shadows

Chapter Twenty-Two

Unrevealed Photos

Noa

The morning air feels heavier than it should as Ryder and I make our way up the steps of Mallory Hayes's house. It's a modest brick building nestled in a quiet neighborhood, the kind of place that's supposed to feel warm and safe. But today, it feels like it's holding secrets.

I clutch the strap of my bag tighter, my nerves rattling in my chest. Ryder walks beside me, calm and steady as ever, though I can sense the undercurrent of tension in the way his shoulders are squared.

"This might be a waste of time," I say softly, glancing at him.

We found so much at the lake last night, we should be focusing on that.

"It's never a waste of time to chase a lead," he replies without looking at me. His jade-green eyes stay fixed on the door as he knocks, the sound sharp and deliberate.

Mallory opens the door after a few moments, her expression neutral but guarded. She's tall, with neatly styled ash-blonde hair and sharp gray eyes that dart between us. There's an air of sophistication about her, from her tailored blazer to the faint scent of expensive perfume lingering in the air.

She stares at me in disbelief, "Noa Raine?" She shakes her head and shifts her attention to Ryder. Her voice is cool and professional as she steps aside to let us in. "And you must be Ryder Fox."

"That's right," Ryder says, his tone unreadable. He steps inside first, his movements deliberate as if he's already scanning the place for anything out of place.

I follow him, my gaze flickering around the room. The interior is just as polished as Mallory herself—clean lines, muted colors, and shelves filled with art books and photography equipment. It's a stark contrast to the turmoil swirling in my chest.

Mallory gestures for us to sit on the sleek gray couch in the living room. She perches on the armchair across from us, crossing her legs gracefully. "I am surprised to see you, Noa. You look so much like her. It's been years since Gia and I worked together."

"That's exactly why we're here," Ryder says, leaning forward slightly. His voice is firm, the kind of tone that leaves no room for deflection. "We're hoping you can fill in some gaps about the months leading up to Gia's disappearance."

Mallory's lips press together, her posture stiffening. "I already told the police everything I know."

"You told them the basics," I say, my voice softer than Ryder's but no less determined. "But there are things they didn't ask—things they might not have thought were important. Gia backed out of the exhibit you were working on together. Why?"

Mallory's eyes narrow slightly, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her blazer. "She... wasn't herself toward the end," she says finally, her tone carefully measured. "Gia was distracted, preoccupied. I thought maybe she was overwhelmed or dealing with personal issues."

"What kind of personal issues?" Ryder asks, his gaze sharp.

"I don't know," Mallory admits, her voice tightening. "She wouldn't talk to me about it. She just said she needed to step away from the project."

"And you didn't press her?" I ask, unable to keep the edge out of my voice.

Mallory's jaw tightens. "Of course I pressed her, Noa. Gia and I were close—at least, I thought we were. But she shut me out. She wouldn't even take my calls after she walked away."

I glance at Ryder, who's watching Mallory like a hawk. There's something she's not saying, something she's holding back.

"You kept some of her work," Ryder says suddenly, his tone more of a statement than a question.