56:The Photograph

The Photograph

Ophelia did not sleep that night.

The unknown messages remained on her mind.

Whoever had sent them knew about April.

They knew about Evan Cole.

And somehow, they knew that Ophelia was investigating.

She sat at her desk until the early hours of the morning, going through everything she had collected.

April's diary.

The photograph from the university.

The sketch from the hidden compartment.

The note from the Fine Arts Annex.

And now Evan Cole.

She placed the photograph from the old university article beside April's picture.

There was something she was missing.

She just didn't know what it was.

Her phone rang.

Anonymous.

"You received a message."

"Yes."

"Did you respond?"

"No."

"Good."

His voice sounded serious.

"Don't respond to unknown numbers. Don't call them back. Don't try to trace them yourself."

"I know how to handle myself."

"I know."

There was a pause.

"I'm not worried about whether you can protect yourself, Ophelia. I'm worried about how much they already know."

She became quiet.

"Anonymous..."

"Yes?"

"Do you think April knew Evan?"

"I think there's a reason his name keeps appearing."

"That's not an answer."

"I don't have an answer yet."

She sighed.

"Then find one."

A quiet laugh came through the phone.

"Still giving orders."

"Someone has to."

"I'll contact you when I know more."

The call ended.

Later that morning, Ophelia returned to the gallery.

She tried to concentrate on her work, but the photograph kept returning to her mind.

During lunch, Vivian Sterling walked into the gallery carrying two cups of coffee.

"I knew you would forget to eat."

Ophelia smiled.

"Do you have a tracker on me?"

"Maybe."

Vivian placed the coffee on her desk.

"You look exhausted."

"I didn't sleep well."

"Why?"

"Too much work."

Vivian studied her face.

"You know you can talk to me."

Ophelia looked at her friend.

For a second, she almost told her.

Then she remembered the promise she had made to Anonymous.

The fewer people who knew, the safer everyone would be.

"I'm fine, Vivian."

Vivian didn't look convinced.

"Fine."

She sat down.

"But I'm watching you."

Ophelia laughed.

"You're becoming worse than Anonymous."

Vivian raised an eyebrow.

"Who is Anonymous?"

Ophelia froze.

She had spoken without thinking.

"My..."

She quickly searched for an excuse.

"An old friend."

Vivian smiled.

"Interesting."

"There's nothing interesting about him."

"I didn't say there was."

Ophelia shook her head.

Vivian laughed.

That evening, Ethan called.

"Are you free tomorrow?"

"Why?"

"I want to take you somewhere."

"Where?"

"It's a surprise."

Ophelia smiled.

"Should I be worried?"

"Only if you don't trust me."

She became quiet.

Trust again.

It seemed to follow her everywhere.

"I trust you."

Ethan's voice softened.

"Good."

After the call, Ophelia returned to her desk.

She opened the university photograph one more time.

This time, she noticed something she had overlooked.

Behind April and Evan stood a large notice board.

Pinned to it was a list of names.

She enlarged the photograph.

The names were blurry, but one was clear enough to read.

Nathan Ashford.

Beneath his name was another.

Evan Cole.

And beside both names was a third name.

Celeste Harrison.

Ophelia stared at the screen.

Her heart began beating faster.

Celeste had been connected to the university.

To Nathan.

To Evan.

And possibly to April.

She quickly wrote the names into her notebook.

Then her phone buzzed.

Another unknown message.

This time there were only four words.

Ask Celeste about April.

Ophelia stared at the screen.

For the first time...

She wondered whether Celeste knew far more about her sister's death than anyone had ever suspected.