Zara couldn't shake the conversation with Greg Novak. His chilling tone lingered in her mind like a storm cloud, making her question everything she thought she knew about her father and his secrets. Why would Greg, a man with such a menacing aura, have such a vested interest in her? What exactly was she guarding?
As Zara slid into her seat in the school cafeteria the next day, the usual chatter of the lunchroom felt distant. Her friends were talking about an upcoming school dance, debating outfits and themes, but Zara's mind was elsewhere.
"Earth to Zara!" Mia waved a hand in front of her face.
"Sorry," Zara muttered, forcing a small smile. "Just... tired."
Mia raised an eyebrow but didn't press. Meanwhile, Zara's other friend, Jake, leaned in. "You've been zoned out all day. You good?"
Before she could answer, the doors to the cafeteria slammed open. Zara flinched, her heart pounding for no reason she could understand. Her eyes flicked to the source of the sound, only to find Ashley striding in like she owned the place.
Ashley's eyes locked onto Zara, her lips curling into a smirk. It wasn't her usual smug expression—there was something sharper about it today, something calculating.
"Trouble in paradise?" Ashley sneered as she passed Zara's table. "Looks like someone didn't get enough sleep last night."
Mia was halfway through a retort when Zara grabbed her arm. "Leave it," she said quietly.
Ashley's mocking laughter echoed as she walked away, but Zara couldn't afford to care. She couldn't tell anyone what was really going on—not even Mia and Jake, her closest friends. Not until she understood it herself.
Later that evening, Zara decided she couldn't keep running from the truth. She needed answers, and she knew exactly where to look.
Her father's study in the basement was untouched since his death. She'd avoided it, afraid of the memories it held, but tonight was different. Clutching a flashlight, she crept down the narrow staircase, the faint hum of the refrigerator upstairs her only companion.
The room smelled faintly of old books and wood polish. Zara's flashlight beam swept across the desk, the bookshelves, the faded leather armchair where her dad used to sit and read. Everything was just as he left it.
She set to work, opening drawers, flipping through books, and scanning for anything that might give her a clue about the artifacts or Greg Novak. Most of the papers were academic, filled with jargon she didn't understand, but then she found it—a thin, leather-bound journal hidden beneath a stack of notebooks.
Her father's handwriting was neat but hurried, as if he were racing against time. The entries started innocently enough—notes about artifacts, discoveries in Nigeria, plans for upcoming exhibitions. But as Zara flipped further, the tone shifted.
"I fear I've made a mistake. Greg Novak is not who he claims to be. He knows more than he should, and I don't trust his intentions."
Zara's breath caught. Her father knew Greg.
"The artifacts must be protected at all costs. I've hidden them where no one will think to look, but if something happens to me..."
The entry ended abruptly, the ink smudged as if his hand had faltered.
Zara flipped the page, but the rest of the journal was blank. She leaned back, her heart racing. Her father's fear was real, and it had everything to do with the artifacts. But where had he hidden them?
A loud creak snapped her out of her thoughts. Zara froze, her flashlight beam darting to the staircase. She wasn't alone.
"Who's there?" she called, her voice trembling.
Silence.
Then, a shadow moved at the top of the stairs.
Zara clutched the journal to her chest, her mind racing. Could it be Greg? One of his people?
The shadow stepped forward, and Zara's heart stopped. It wasn't Greg—it was Ashley.
"What are you doing here?" Zara demanded, her voice shaking.
Ashley tilted her head, her eyes gleaming in the dim light. "I could ask you the same thing, Zara. You're not the only one with secrets, you know."
Zara's grip on the journal tightened. "What are you talking about?"
Ashley's smirk deepened. "Let's just say your dad wasn't the only one looking for those artifacts. And if you think you're safe, you're wrong."
The room spun as Zara tried to process Ashley's words. How did she know about the artifacts? And what did she mean by you're not safe?
Before Zara could respond, Ashley turned and disappeared up the stairs, leaving Zara in the suffocating darkness of the basement.
For the first time, Zara realized the stakes were higher than she'd imagined. This wasn't just about Greg Novak or her father's legacy. The danger was closer than she thought—and it had a face she recognized.