Julian and I arrived at Danielle's apartment within half an hour. The entire ride there, I clutched my phone so tightly my fingers ached, my mind spinning with possibilities I didn't dare voice.

Could Daniel really be alive?

Was this some kind of cruel misunderstanding?

Julian barely spoke, but his presence beside me was grounding. Something about the way he carried himself - calm yet alert - made me feel like I wasn't drowning in this alone.

When we reached the apartment, I barely knocked before Danielle flung the door open.

She looked awful. Her usually sleek blonde hair was messy, her eyes rimmed with dark circles. She hadn't been sleeping.

"Lana," she breathed, grabbing my hand and yanking me inside. "You came."

"You think Daniel is alive," I said, skipping any pleasantries. "Tell me everything. Now."

Danielle's eyes flicked to Julian.

"He knows," I assured her. "You can talk in front of him."

She hesitated for half a second, then exhaled shakily, rubbing her arms like she was trying to hold herself together.

"A few weeks ago, I got a call from a blocked number," she said. "I almost ignored it, but something told me to answer. When I did? I swear, Lana, it was Daniel's voice."

My breath caught.

"What did he say?"

"Nothing. Not at first. It was like he was struggling to speak. And then, just before the line went dead, he whispered my name."

A cold shiver ran down my spine.

"You're sure it was him?" Julian asked, his voice quiet but firm.

Danielle nodded. "I'd know my brother's voice anywhere. And it wasn't just the call. I started noticing things? A car parked outside my apartment for hours, the same man appearing in places I went. I thought I was being paranoid, but then? last night."

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a crumpled note.

Julian and I both leaned in as she unfolded it with trembling fingers.

The handwriting was unmistakable.

Danielle, I need your help. Trust no one.

It wasn't signed. It didn't have an explanation.

But I knew.

My fingers traced the ink like touching it would make it more real.

Julian let out a slow breath. "Someone wanted her to see this."

"Daniel wanted me to see this," Danielle corrected.

I forced myself to take a step back. My heartbeat was erratic, my thoughts running too fast.

"Why would he reach out after all these years?" My voice wavered. "Why not? why not come home?"

Danielle hesitated. Then, softly: "Because maybe he can't."

Silence thickened the air between us.

Julian broke it first. "If Daniel's alive, then that estate sale was staged."

I turned to him sharply. "What?"

He met my gaze, serious. "Think about it, Lana. If Daniel was dead, why sell his belongings five years later, out of nowhere? And why at a flea market? If he were truly gone, his family would've handled his things. This? this was a breadcrumb left behind."

I stared at him, my pulse hammering.

A breadcrumb.

Danielle's call. The note. The ring.

Daniel wasn't just alive. He was trying to tell us something.

"Then we find him," I whispered.

Julian nodded. "We start at the estate sale location. If that was staged, someone there knows something."

Danielle wiped her eyes, her voice determined despite her fear. "I want to help."

I hesitated. "It might not be safe."

She squared her shoulders. "I don't care. He's my brother."

I swallowed hard.

"Then we do this together," I said.

Julian's gaze flickered between us, then he pulled out his phone. "I'll make a few calls. I have some? contacts that can help track where the sale came from."

I frowned. "What kind of contacts?"

He didn't answer.

But as we left Danielle's apartment, I realized something -

Julian wasn't just a man caught up in this.

He had his own secrets.

And I wasn't sure if I was ready to find out what they were.