By morning, I had packed a bag.
I didn't know where I was going.
I only knew I couldn't stay in my apartment pretending Daniel's voice hadn't returned from the dead.
I drove to Riverside Bridge.
The place looked ordinary in daylight.
Too ordinary.
Cars passed over it.
People walked along the pavement.
The river moved quietly beneath it.
Three years earlier, Daniel's car had crashed into the barrier less than a mile away.
I parked beside a small café and walked toward the road.
The rain had stopped, but the air still smelled wet.
I stood where the police report said the accident happened.
There was nothing left.
No broken glass.
No flowers.
No sign that Daniel had died there.
“You shouldn't be standing so close to the road.”
I turned.
A man stood behind me.
He looked about thirty-five.
Dark hair. Grey coat. Tired eyes.
“I'll survive,” I said.
He gave a small smile.
“That's usually what people say before proving themselves wrong.”
Despite myself, I almost smiled.
Then he looked at the flowers in my hand.
His expression changed.
“You knew him.”
“Who?”
“The man who died here.”
I became still.
“How do you know that?”
He looked toward the bridge.
“I saw you in one of the photographs.”
“What photographs?”
“News articles.”
I didn't like him anymore.
“My name is Noah,” he said.
“Maya.”
“I know.”
My heart skipped.
“What?”
He quickly raised his hands.
“Sorry. That sounded worse than I meant it.”
“Much worse.”
“I work as an investigative journalist.”
I stared at him.
“I've been looking into Daniel Hart's accident.”
“Why?”
Noah hesitated.
“Because I don't think it was an accident.”
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then I said, “What do you know?”
“Not enough.”
“That's not an answer.”
“I found inconsistencies in the police report.”
My pulse quickened.
“Such as?”
“Daniel's phone records.”
I stopped breathing.
“What about them?”
“They don't match the official timeline.”
He studied my face.
“You didn't know.”
“No.”
“Daniel made several calls that night.”
“The police said his phone was damaged.”
“It was.”
“Then how—?”
“Calls can still appear in network records.”
I stepped closer.
“Who did he call?”
Noah looked uncomfortable.
“One number repeatedly.”
“Whose?”
“Elena Hart's.”
I felt the ground disappear beneath me.
“His sister?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Maya—”
“She wouldn't hurt him.”
“I didn't say she did.”
“Then why were they speaking?”
“That's what I've been trying to find out.”
I thought about the voice note.
The woman's voice behind Daniel.
Elena.
Don't trust her.
Don't believe her.
My phone vibrated.
Both of us looked down.
Another voice note.
2:13 PM.
Not AM.
Noah's eyes narrowed.
“Are you going to play it?”
I pressed play.
Daniel's voice filled the air.
“Maya, there was something in the car.”
Static.
“I found a file.”
A pause.
Then:
“If anything happens to me, find Noah.”
I looked up.
Noah had gone completely pale.
The message ended.
For the first time since meeting him, he looked afraid.
“What did Daniel mean?” I asked.
Noah stepped backward.
“I have no idea.”
“You're lying.”
“I swear I'm not.”
“You knew him.”
“I met him once.”
“When?”
“Three days before he died.”
“Why?”
Noah looked toward the bridge.
“Because Daniel contacted me.”
My heart began pounding.
“What did he want?”
“To expose someone.”
“Who?”
Noah's voice dropped.
“I don't know. He never told me.”
“Then what did he give you?”
“Nothing.”
I stared at him.
“Daniel died three days later.”
“Yes.”
“And you've been investigating his death ever since?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Noah looked directly at me.
“Because before he died, Daniel sent me one message.”
“What did it say?”
Noah took out his phone.
He showed me the screen.
A message from Daniel.
Three years old.
If anything happens to me, don't let Maya believe I abandoned her.
I couldn't speak.
Noah watched tears fill my eyes.
“I'm sorry,” he said quietly.
I hated that he sounded sincere.
I hated that a stranger knew something Daniel had wanted me to know.
And I hated the small part of me that suddenly felt less alone.
My phone vibrated again.
A text.
YOU'RE ASKING THE WRONG QUESTION.
Then another.
DON'T ASK WHO KILLED DANIEL.
My hands shook.
The final message appeared.
ASK WHY HE HAD TO DIE.