Noah took me to his office.
It wasn't glamorous.
No dramatic walls covered in newspaper clippings.
Just a small room above a printing shop.
But Daniel's name was everywhere.
Files.
Photographs.
Police reports.
Maps.
Three years of investigation.
“You never gave up,” I said.
Noah leaned against his desk.
“I almost did.”
“What stopped you?”
He looked at me.
“Daniel's message.”
I looked away.
For a long time, we worked in silence.
Then Noah placed a folder in front of me.
“Daniel was designing a redevelopment project near Riverside.”
I nodded.
“I know. He was excited about it.”
“Did he ever mention a company called Vance Holdings?”
“No.”
“They owned the land.”
I read through the documents.
Financial reports.
Planning permissions.
Construction contracts.
Then Noah showed me photographs.
“Several buildings in the area were declared unsafe and demolished.”
“So?”
“People were still living in some of them.”
I looked up.
“What?”
“The company allegedly paid officials to ignore safety reports.”
My stomach turned.
“Daniel found out?”
“He discovered irregularities in the architectural plans.”
“Why would that put him in danger?”
“Because someone had been using his firm's designs to approve buildings that should never have been approved.”
I stared at the papers.
Daniel had been part of something.
Without knowing.
“He found proof,” Noah continued.
“A file?”
“I think so.”
I remembered the voice note.
I found a file.
“Where is it?”
“We don't know.”
I thought about Daniel's old belongings.
His apartment had been cleared.
His office had been searched by police.
His car was destroyed.
Then I remembered something.
“His watch.”
Noah looked confused.
“What?”
“Daniel's watch.”
I had kept it.
We drove to my apartment.
I found the wooden box within minutes.
The watch was exactly where I had left it.
A simple silver watch.
Daniel never took it off.
Noah examined it.
“Why this?”
“Because Daniel used to say it was the only thing his father ever gave him.”
Noah turned it over.
Then he frowned.
“What?”
“There are scratches here.”
He pressed something along the side.
Nothing happened.
Then he twisted the back.
A tiny compartment opened.
Inside was a memory card.
For several seconds, neither of us moved.
Noah looked at me.
“Maya…”
“I know.”
My hands began shaking.
He inserted the card into his laptop.
There was only one file.
An audio recording.
We pressed play.
Daniel's voice filled the room.
The recording was dated the night he died.
“Maya, if you're hearing this, then something went wrong.”
I closed my eyes.
Noah sat beside me.
Not touching me.
But close enough that I could feel his presence.
Daniel continued.
“I found proof that Vance Holdings knew the buildings were unsafe.”
Static.
“I gave copies to Noah.”
Noah suddenly looked up.
“What?”
Daniel's voice continued.
“But Elena has the original.”
My eyes opened.
Noah stared at the screen.
“Elena?”
Then Daniel spoke again.
“I didn't want to involve Maya. She deserves a life without this.”
My tears began falling.
“I love you, Maya.”
The room blurred.
“I always loved you. Even when I was terrible at saying it.”
I pressed my hand against my mouth.
“And if Elena tells you I left…”
The recording stopped.
Noah looked at me.
“That's it?”
I nodded slowly.
“The voice note said the same thing.”
The doorbell rang.
Both of us froze.
Noah stood.
“Were you expecting someone?”
“No.”
The bell rang again.
Then someone knocked.
Hard.
Noah moved toward the door.
I grabbed his arm.
“Don't.”
He looked at me.
For a second, neither of us moved.
Then he opened it.
The hallway was empty.
But lying on the floor was a small envelope.
My name was written across it.
MAYA.
Inside was a photograph.
Daniel.
Alive.
Taken the night he died.
He was sitting in a car.
And beside him was Elena.
On the back of the photograph were six words.
SHE KNOWS WHERE THE ORIGINAL IS.