49:The Forgotten Building

The Forgotten Building

The anonymous note stayed on Ophelia's mind all night.

"Some doors should never be opened."

Most people would have taken it as a warning.

Ophelia took it as confirmation.

She was getting close.

The following morning, she spread everything across her dining table.

April's diary.

The university program.

The old photograph.

The sketch hidden inside the diary.

Her notebook.

She studied each item carefully.

One detail kept repeating.

The university.

Not the classrooms.

Not the students.

The events.

Every clue seemed connected to activities held outside regular lectures.

"There has to be one place they all crossed paths," she whispered.

Her phone rang.

It was Anonymous.

"You've stopped sleeping."

"You can hear that over the phone?"

"I've worked with you long enough."

She smiled faintly.

"You found something."

"I found a building."

Ophelia immediately reached for her notebook.

"I'm listening."

"The university had an old Fine Arts Annex."

"I've seen it on the campus map."

"It was closed six years ago after a fire."

She frowned.

"I don't remember reading about a fire."

"That's because the reports disappeared."

Silence.

Then Anonymous added quietly,

"Someone erased almost everything."

An hour later...

Ophelia parked outside the university.

She wore simple jeans, a white blouse and a light jacket, blending in with the students walking across campus.

The Fine Arts Annex stood at the far edge of the grounds.

Its windows were boarded.

Yellow caution tape had long faded beneath years of sun and rain.

Nature had begun reclaiming the building.

She walked slowly around the perimeter.

The front entrance was chained shut.

But military training had taught her something valuable.

Every secure building had more than one entrance.

Behind the Annex...

She found an old service door.

The padlock had rusted.

Someone had forced it open months earlier.

Ophelia crouched.

Fresh footprints.

Not many.

But enough to tell her she wasn't the first person to come here recently.

She slipped inside.

Dust filled the air.

Broken easels lay scattered across the floor.

Canvas frames leaned against cracked walls.

Sunlight filtered through holes in the damaged roof.

It felt frozen in time.

She switched on her flashlight.

The beam swept slowly across the room.

Then it stopped.

A faded mural covered one wall.

Students had signed their names beneath it years ago.

Most had faded.

Some had peeled away.

But one signature remained perfectly clear.

April Hayes.

Ophelia's breath caught.

She stepped closer.

Just beneath April's name...

Someone had scratched a single sentence into the paint.

"I know what you did."

The words were deep.

Angry.

Desperate.

Ophelia reached out but stopped just short of touching them.

She took several photographs instead.

Evidence first.

Questions later.

Suddenly...

A loud creak echoed from the upper floor.

She froze.

Someone else was inside the building.

The footsteps were slow.

Measured.

Not the sound of an animal.

A person.

Ophelia switched off her flashlight instantly.

The room fell into darkness.

She listened.

One step.

Another.

Closer.

Her heartbeat remained steady.

Years in the Agency had trained her for moments exactly like this.

Silently, she moved behind a fallen cabinet.

The footsteps stopped.

Then...

A man's voice broke the silence.

"You're late."

Ophelia frowned.

Late?

He was expecting someone.

Another voice answered from somewhere upstairs.

"No."

"I had to make sure I wasn't followed."

Ophelia's eyes narrowed.

There were two of them.

She slowly reached into her pocket and activated the tiny voice recorder Anonymous had given her months earlier.

The red light blinked once.

Then disappeared.

She held her breath.

The conversation above continued...

"I told you we should have destroyed everything."

"We couldn't."

"Why not?"

A long silence followed.

Then came the answer that made Ophelia's blood run cold.

"Because we never found her diary."