Chapter 3: What He Left Behind
The restaurant had become so quiet that Nia could hear the refrigerator motor behind the bar.
Nobody spoke.
Nobody reached for a fork.
Even the cleaning cart had stopped halfway across the dining room.
Nia stared at Vanessa.
“What did you say?””
Vanessa held the envelope against her chest.
“I said your father sent me.””
“My father is dead.””
“I know.””
“You met him three days ago?””
Vanessa looked away.
“Yes.””
Nia felt Marcus's hand lightly touch her arm.
“Nia,” he said, “take a breath.””
She pulled her arm back.
“No.””
“Nia—”
“No.””
Her voice wasn't loud.
That made it worse.
She looked at Vanessa.
“You're lying.””
Vanessa shook her head.
“I'm not.””
“You expect me to believe my dead father met you three days ago?””
“He didn't.””
“Then explain the picture.””
Vanessa's jaw tightened.
“I didn't take it.””
“Who did?””
“I don't know.””
Nia stepped closer.
“Then why are you here?””
Vanessa looked toward the restaurant windows.
Bright daylight poured across the polished floor.
Cars moved along the street outside.
Everything looked normal.
That was the strangest part.
The world hadn't changed.
Only hers had.
Vanessa slowly placed the envelope on Table Twelve.
“Your father gave me this.””
Nia didn't touch it.
“When?””
“Before he died.””
Nia stared at her.
“Then why did you say three days ago?””
“I said I met him three days ago.””
“That doesn't make sense.””
Vanessa's voice dropped.
“Because the man in that photograph isn't your father.””
Nia stopped.
Marcus looked at Vanessa.
“Who is he?””
Vanessa looked at Nia.
“His brother.””
Nia's face tightened.
“My father was an only child.””
Vanessa shook her head.
“That's what he told you.””
A chair scraped loudly behind them.
Someone whispered.
Nia barely heard it.
She reached for the envelope.
Vanessa put her hand over it.
“Not here.””
Nia looked at her.
“You came into my restaurant, broke a glass, insulted me, demanded I get on my knees, and now you're telling me where I can open an envelope?””
“I needed you angry.””
Nia blinked.
“What?””
“I needed you angry enough to listen.””
Vanessa released the envelope.
Nia picked it up.
It was heavier than paper should have felt.
There was something inside.
A key.
She could feel its hard metal edge through the envelope.
“What is this?””
“Your father wanted you to have it.””
“Why didn't you give it to me?””
“Because I didn't know if I could trust you.””
Nia stared at her.
“You don't know me.””
Vanessa's expression softened for the first time.
“I know more about you than you think.””
Marcus stepped closer.
“That's enough.””
Vanessa looked at him.
“No.””
Marcus's jaw tightened.
“This is a private matter.””
“It stopped being private when someone started following me.””
Nia's eyes narrowed.
“Someone followed you?””
Vanessa nodded.
“For two weeks.””
“Who?””
“I don't know.””
“You expect me to believe that?””
“I expect you to understand why I had to make a scene.””
Nia laughed once.
It was a dry, disbelieving sound.
“You deliberately shattered a glass.””
“Yes.””
“You humiliated me.””
“Yes.””
“You told me to get on my knees.””
Vanessa swallowed.
“Yes.””
“And you thought that was the best way to get my attention?””
“I knew you wouldn't listen otherwise.””
Nia stepped closer.
“You could've called me.””
“I did.””
Nia froze.
“When?””
“Three times.””
“I didn't get any calls.””
Vanessa looked at her.
“Check your father's old number.””
Nia's breathing stopped.
That number had been disconnected months ago.
At least, she thought it had.
She pulled out her phone.
Her fingers moved quickly.
The call history loaded.
Nia searched the number.
Nothing.
Vanessa watched.
“Try your blocked messages.””
Nia frowned.
She opened the blocked folder.
There were fourteen messages.
All from her father's number.
Her hands began to shake.
Marcus saw the screen.
“Nia…”
She scrolled.
The first message had been sent six months ago.
*Don't trust the man handling the estate.*
The second:
*He knows about the restaurant.*
The third:
*If Vanessa Whitmore finds you, listen to her.*
Nia looked up.
“Who is handling my father's estate?””
Vanessa answered.
“Your uncle.””
Nia shook her head.
“I told you. My father didn't have a brother.””
Vanessa's eyes hardened.
“He did.””
“Then why didn't I know?””
“Because your father spent thirty years making sure you wouldn't.””
Nia looked down at the envelope.
The key inside shifted.
She tore it open.
A brass key dropped into her palm.
A handwritten note followed.
The handwriting was unmistakable.
Her father's.
Nia unfolded the paper.
Only one sentence was written.
*Nia, if Vanessa is standing in front of you, the person you should fear is already inside the restaurant.*
Nia's eyes lifted.
Slowly.
She looked around the dining room.
The guests.
The servers.
The bar.
The kitchen entrance.
Marcus.
Everyone looked back at her.
Then she noticed the front window.
A black SUV was parked across the street.
Its engine was running.
A man sat behind the wheel.
Vanessa saw it too.
Her face went pale.
“That's him.””
Marcus turned toward the window.
“Who?””
Vanessa grabbed Nia's wrist.
“The man your father warned you about.””
The SUV's driver's door opened.
And the man stepping onto the sidewalk was wearing the same navy suit as Marcus.
Nia looked at Marcus.
Then back at the stranger.
For the first time, Marcus's calm expression cracked.
He whispered, “Nia…”
May you like
The stranger reached the restaurant door.
And the lock clicked.