Chapter 12

When I got to Willow Creek Elementary School the next morning, the smell of new chalk and floor polish greeted me. It was strange to come back; it was like the busy weeks had never happened.

As I stood in the familiar halls, it felt like years had passed, even though I had only been gone for a short time.

"Miss Clark!" A small voice came from behind me. One of my third-graders, Ella, was rushing at me as I turned around, her bag swinging wildly in the back. Her blonde pigtails bounced as she ran, and her big smile reminded me why I liked my job.

I bowed down and said, "Hey Ella. How did your weekend go?"

"Well! We went to the park, and I got ice cream, and I saw a squirrel!" she exclaimed, her voice trailing off in excitement. "Are we doing science today? I brought my project."

I chuckled quietly as the comfort of daily life began to seep in. "We certainly are. I'm eager to see what you have."

I stood in the corridor for a while, watching the children as Ella hurried off toward the classroom. The regularity, structure, and normality of it all made it easy to lose yourself. But the mysteries of Henry Monroe followed me like a shadow, no matter how much I wanted to go back to my old life. A fragment of that other universe kept creeping back into my thoughts whenever I tried to focus on my kids.

By the afternoon, I was having a hard time staying in the moment. To keep students busy, I had given them a group project, but my mind kept returning to New York. Even though Sophie was my best friend, I hadn't told her the whole truth about Henry Monroe, and our chat the previous evening had only touched the surface of what I had learned. I didn't want to put her through that.

I was sitting at my desk during the group exercise with the students when I started looking through old news stories on Henry Monroe on my laptop in an attempt to find any hints that would help me understand his secret life. His story had a lot of holes in it, and I was left wondering a lot.

I needed to know more.

My gaze swept across the screen, but the stories offered little more than what the general public already knew; his generosity, his business empire, and his money. However, none of it matched the persona Jack had portrayed, the one who had engaged in risky transactions and unlawful behavior. There must have been more. Something more deep. Something hidden.

"Miss Clark?"

The voice shocked me, and I jumped. Another of my students, Liam, was standing in front of my desk, looking at me with wide eyes as I looked up.

"I am sorry; I didn't mean to frighten you," he added, twitching uneasily. "However, I need assistance with the project."

I tried to bring myself back to the here and now by blinking. "Of course, Liam. I want to see what you have."

I had to force myself to ignore Henry Monroe's thoughts as I helped Liam with his project.

I went home after school in the hopes that getting away from the classroom would help me relax. I wasn't sure if I was prepared for more inquiries, but Sophie had asked me over for dinner. I had only given her with the bare minimum of information regarding my relationship with Henry, leaving her in the dark. Of course she knew something was wrong, but I hadn't told her about the more dangerous parts, like the potential threats.

I simply couldn't bring myself to be really honest with her just yet. What could I say about the dark legacy Henry had given me in New York? how could I explain the man who had followed me? It didn't feel right to put that weight on her.

Rather, I stayed in my tiny apartment most nights searching through internet documents for anything; anything that would help me learn more about Henry's past. It wasn't easy, and I usually ended up feeling frustrated because my mind was constantly racing with unanswered questions.

It was the same tonight. I was sitting at my kitchen table when I fell into yet another rabbit hole of Henry Monroe's financial issues, the room dimly lit by the glow of the laptop screen. However, nothing was new. There was nothing to explain the mysteries he brought with him to his grave.

I sighed in frustration, shut down the laptop, and relaxed in my chair, massaging my temples. I was tired; tired of the mystery, tired of the questions, tired of the threat that seemed to hang above me.

I was interrupted from my thoughts as my phone buzzed on the table. Sophie had sent the message: "dinner this evening? I'm making pasta!"

I smiled appreciating the little diversion. I needed a night with Sophie; a night away from Henry Monroe and the chaos that had become of my life.

As soon as I entered Sophie's cozy and friendly home, I could smell the aroma of spaghetti and garlic.

"The food is almost ready, so come on in!" As she led me into the kitchen, she said. "Pasta has been on my mind all day."

I followed her inside while laughing. The tiny home was comfortable, with colorful throw pillows and mismatched furniture that reflected Sophie's unique taste. I had the feeling that I was at home, safe from harm.

I felt a little lighter for the first time in days as we sat down at the kitchen table with plates of pasta in front of us. It was a casual talk that largely focused on humorous stories and stories from our early years. Sophie always managed to briefly distract me from the burden I was bearing.

After some time, Sophie narrowed her eyes playfully and mumbled, "So. Will you reveal what's happening to me, or stay unclear?"

Twirling my fork in the spaghetti, I paused. I said, for what seemed like the umpteenth time, "It's... complicated."

Sophie's eyes softened as she leaned back in her chair. "I understand that you don't want to discuss it, Em. But you know that I am reliable. aren't you? I am here for whatever it is."

As I nodded, a knot started to form in my throat. I was hesitant to tell her everything since I didn't want to pull her into this horror. What if I was followed here by the danger? What if Sophie became the target as well?

"I understand," I muttered. "I'm simply not ready yet."

Sophie squeezed my hand as she stretched across the table. "I'll be here whenever you are."

Later that evening, as I made my way home. At least that was how Willow Creek had always felt: tranquil and safe.

I took out my phone, expecting another message from Sophie, when it buzzed in my pocket once more. However, my heart stopped a beat when I glanced at the screen.

An email from Jack.

I found something, Emily. We must speak.

I felt sick to my stomach. What had Jack discovered? What had he found as a fresh piece of the puzzle? What would that mean for me, too?

I felt the quiet night grow suddenly heavier and darker as I stood motionless on the sidewalk. Whatever Jack had found; I knew it wouldn't be good. I knew that the truth was coming to me, whether I was prepared for it or not, despite my desire to run from it all.