Secrets Unearthed

Zara couldn't sleep. The image of Gregor's scarred face haunted her, and the thought of him rummaging through her dad's belongings made her skin crawl. Her dad's storage unit was more than just a collection of boxes; it was her last connection to him—and now, she had to protect it.

By sunrise, she'd made up her mind. She had to go back, this time alone

Later that Day

Zara told her mom she was meeting Mia for a school project and hopped on the bus to the storage facility. The streets blurred outside the window, but her mind was sharp, cycling through possibilities. What could Gregor have been looking for? Did her dad know something worth dying for?

When she arrived, the lot looked much the same as it had the night before—quiet and unassuming. She walked briskly to Unit 113, her dad's unit, and pushed the door open.

Inside, the air was stale, carrying the faint smell of cardboard and dust. Rows of boxes were neatly stacked, labeled in her dad's handwriting. She ran her fingers over the labels: Receipts, Photos, Books.

But one box stood out. It was shoved to the back, unlabeled and slightly ajar, as if someone had already opened it in haste.

Zara knelt and pulled it toward her, her heart racing. Inside, she found a mix of papers, a leather-bound journal, and... a small wooden box with a metal clasp.

She picked up the journal first, flipping through its pages. It was filled with her dad's tidy handwriting—notes about his work as an art dealer, sketches of artifacts, and detailed accounts of acquisitions.

One entry caught her eye:

March 3, 2018

"The statuette from Ile-Ife is authentic. If the Novaks find out, it's over. I have to secure it. I hope Zara will never have to know any of this."

Her breath hitched. The Novaks? Gregor Novak?

She put the journal aside and opened the wooden box. Inside was a small, intricately carved bronze statuette. It gleamed faintly in the dim light, its design unmistakably Nigerian.

Zara's mind raced. This is it. This is what he was after.

Suddenly, a faint sound broke her focus—a creak, like a footstep.

She froze, her pulse pounding in her ears. Slowly, she turned her head toward the open storage unit door.

A shadow loomed across the entrance.

"Looks like you found it," a low voice said.

Zara's stomach dropped. Gregor stood in the doorway, blocking her exit.

"You shouldn't have come back here," he said, stepping inside, his eyes fixed on the statuette in her hands.

"Stay back," Zara said, her voice trembling. She clutched the statuette tightly, ready to run.

Gregor smirked. "You don't understand what you're holding, do you? That little trinket is worth millions—and people are willing to do anything to get it."

Zara's grip tightened. "It belonged to my dad. You're not getting it."

Gregor took another step forward. "Your dad made promises he couldn't keep. He was in over his head, just like you are now."

Before she could respond, a sudden clatter echoed through the facility. Gregor whipped around, his hand darting to his jacket pocket.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Zara bolted, clutching the statuette and journal.

"Zara, stop!" Gregor shouted, but she didn't look back.

She dashed through the narrow aisles, weaving between storage units until she reached the main gate. Her heart sank when she realized it was locked.

Just as Gregor's footsteps grew louder behind her, a car screeched to a halt outside the gate.

"Get in!" Mia shouted, leaning out of the passenger seat of her older brother's car.

Zara didn't hesitate. She climbed over the gate and dove into the backseat.

"Go, go, go!" she yelled.

The car sped off, leaving Gregor shouting angrily in the dust.