26:The Diary Never Lies

The Diary Never Lies

(Ophelia's POV)

Sleep refused to come.

The envelope Anonymous had left was still lying on her coffee table.

YOU'RE STARTING TO FORGET APRIL.

She had read the words so many times they were burned into her memory.

"That's not true," she whispered into the empty apartment.

"Not a single day goes by that I forget her."

She walked into her study and unlocked the safe hidden behind the painting.

Inside lay April's diary.

Its brown leather cover had begun to crack with age, but Ophelia treated it as though it were made of glass.

It was all she had left.

She carried it to the sofa, wrapped herself in a blanket, and slowly turned another page.

April's Diary

September 14

I finally attended the Ashford Foundation Charity Gala today.

Olivia would've loved it. She always said rich people looked uncomfortable in expensive clothes.

I wish she had been there to make me laugh.

A tear rolled down Ophelia's cheek.

April had written her real name.

Olivia.

The name the world believed no longer existed.

She turned the page.

September 15

Today I met Richard Ashford.

He reminded me of Dad.

Kind eyes.

Gentle voice.

The sort of man who thanks waiters and remembers people's names.

If only everyone in that family were like him.

Ophelia frowned.

If only...

Who had April meant?

She turned another page.

September 18

I met Nathan Ashford again today.

He's not what people think.

Her breath caught.

She read the sentence again.

He's not what people think.

Anonymous had spent months convincing her that Nathan was at the center of everything.

Yet April had written something entirely different.

She kept reading.

He seemed nervous.

He kept looking over his shoulder.

Before leaving, he quietly told me...

"If anyone asks, tell them you never met me."

I laughed because I thought he was joking.

Now... I'm not so sure.

Ophelia slowly closed the diary.

Nothing made sense anymore.

If Nathan had wanted to harm April...

Why would he warn her?

The next morning, Ethan called.

"Good morning."

She smiled despite everything.

"Good morning."

"I was wondering if you'd have lunch with me."

She glanced at the diary still lying open on the table.

"I'd like that."

"Great."

"I'll pick you up at one."

They met at a quiet café overlooking the river.

Ethan noticed almost immediately that something was different.

"You're quieter than usual."

"Am I?"

"You've stirred your coffee six times."

She looked down.

He was right.

"I've just had a lot on my mind."

He didn't ask what.

Instead, he changed the subject.

"You know what the children at St. Anne's asked me yesterday?"

"What?"

"They wanted to know if you were my girlfriend."

She almost dropped her cup.

"They did what?"

"They're very direct."

She laughed.

"And what did you tell them?"

"I told them..."

He smiled.

"...that I was still trying to convince you to spend time with me."

She shook her head, laughing.

"I think they like you."

"I hope one day they'll like me enough to stop asking difficult questions."

As they left the café, Ethan reached for the door, holding it open for her.

An elderly woman standing nearby smiled at them.

"You make a lovely couple."

Both of them froze.

Ophelia looked down, suddenly shy.

Ethan smiled politely.

"Thank you."

They walked several steps before either of them spoke.

"That was awkward," Ophelia murmured.

"A little."

Another silence.

Then Ethan chuckled.

"I didn't mind it."

She glanced sideways at him.

"No?"

"No."

For reasons she couldn't explain...

She didn't mind it either.

That evening, Ophelia received another message.

Not from Anonymous.

From an unknown number.

There was no greeting.

No explanation.

Only a photograph.

It showed April at the charity gala.

Standing beside Richard Ashford.

But in the background...

Barely visible...

Was another figure.

The face had been circled in red.

Beneath the picture were four typed words.

LOOK BEHIND THE CURTAIN.

Ophelia zoomed in.

The image was grainy.

The person was standing half-hidden behind a velvet curtain at the edge of the ballroom.

Only part of the face was visible.

She couldn't tell who it was.

But she knew one thing.

Someone else had been watching April that night.

Someone no one had mentioned.

She looked at the photograph, her heart pounding.

Then whispered,

"Who are you?"

Outside...

The rain began to fall.

And somewhere in the darkness...

Someone smiled.