The First Clue

Zara pulled her hoodie tighter against the crisp morning air as she stood at the bus stop with Mia. The world around her seemed to hum with quiet activity—cars whizzing by, distant chatter of early risers, the rhythmic flapping of a flag on a nearby pole. But Zara's mind was elsewhere, consumed by the journal tucked safely in her backpack.

"You look like you haven't slept," Mia said, chewing on a stick of gum.

"Thanks for pointing that out," Zara muttered, her eyes fixed on the empty road ahead.

"Hey, I'm just saying. You're about to dive into some potentially shady storage unit. A good night's rest might've helped."

"Noted," Zara replied flatly, though a small smile tugged at her lips.

Mia bumped her shoulder. "Relax, we've got this. Worst case, we find nothing and grab donuts after."

The bus ride felt like an eternity. Zara stared out the window, her thoughts bouncing between fear and determination. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched, though every time she glanced around, there was nothing but strangers engrossed in their own lives.

When they finally arrived, the storage facility loomed ahead like a fortress—rows of identical metal doors stretching as far as the eye could see. A chain-link fence surrounded the property, topped with curling barbed wire.

"Cheerful place," Mia said, hands stuffed in her jacket pockets.

Zara didn't respond. Her heart raced as they approached the entrance.

Inside the office, a bored-looking clerk barely glanced at them as Zara handed over the key she'd found taped inside her father's journal. It felt heavy in her palm, as though it carried the weight of all her unanswered questions.

"This is for Unit 37," she said, her voice steady despite the nervous flutter in her stomach.

The clerk shrugged, typing something into his computer. "Alright, you're good. Down the hall, second row on your left."

"Thanks," Zara mumbled, leading Mia toward the rows of units.

"Okay, this is officially getting creepy," Mia whispered as they walked. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting stark shadows on the concrete floor.

Zara found Unit 37 and paused. Her hand hovered over the lock. "Are you sure about this?" she asked Mia.

"Not even a little bit," Mia said with a grin. "But I'm here for it."

Taking a deep breath, Zara slid the key into the lock and turned it. The door groaned as she pulled it open, revealing a dimly lit space filled with crates, boxes, and a faint smell of dust and wood.

Zara stepped inside, her heart pounding. Her eyes adjusted to the dim light, scanning the room. At first glance, nothing seemed remarkable—just a bunch of old boxes stacked haphazardly.

"What are we even looking for?" Mia asked, poking at a crate with her foot.

"I'm not sure," Zara admitted, pulling open a box. Inside, she found yellowed documents, some in languages she didn't recognize. Beneath them was a small wooden case, intricately carved with patterns she vaguely recognized from her father's study back in Lagos.

She lifted the box carefully and opened it. Inside was an ornate bracelet, studded with emeralds and gold.

"Whoa," Mia breathed, peering over her shoulder. "That looks… expensive."

Zara stared at the bracelet, her mind racing. This was it—one of the artifacts her father had mentioned in his journal. But why had he hidden it here? And why hadn't he told her about it?

Before she could dwell on these questions, a sound echoed through the storage unit—a metallic clink, like something being dropped.

Mia froze. "Did you hear that?"

Zara nodded, her pulse quickening. She shoved the bracelet back into the box and tucked it into her backpack.

"We should go," Mia whispered, edging toward the door.

As they stepped out of the unit, Zara glanced over her shoulder. A figure stood at the far end of the hall, half-hidden in shadow. They were too far away to make out any details, but their presence sent a chill down Zara's spine.

"Run," she whispered to Mia.

Without waiting for a reply, Zara bolted, her sneakers slapping against the concrete floor. Mia was right behind her, both of them racing toward the exit. The figure didn't move, but Zara could feel their eyes on her, tracking her every step.

Outside, the sunlight felt blinding after the dimness of the storage unit. Zara and Mia didn't stop running until they were several blocks away, their breaths coming in gasps.

"What… the hell… was that?" Mia panted, leaning against a lamppost.

"I don't know," Zara admitted, clutching her backpack tightly. "But I think… I think someone's following me."

Mia stared at her, wide-eyed. "This is way bigger than I thought."

Zara nodded, her grip tightening on the straps of her backpack. "We need to figure out who they are. And why they want this."

She didn't say it aloud, but she couldn't shake the feeling that the figure in the storage unit wasn't just watching her—they were waiting for her next move.

As Zara and Mia walked away, the figure emerged from the shadows of the storage facility, a phone pressed to their ear.

"She has it," they said. "But she doesn't know what she's holding. Not yet."