The Question
The message remained on Ophelia's phone long after she had read it.
Ask Celeste about April.
She read it again.
Then she placed the phone face down on the table.
Someone wanted her to question Celeste.
The problem was that Ophelia didn't know whether the message was meant to help her or mislead her.
She had learned one thing during her years in the Agency.
When someone gave you an answer too easily, you had to question why.
The next morning, Ophelia stood in front of her wardrobe deciding what to wear.
She wasn't going to confront Celeste.
Not yet.
She needed information first.
She picked up her phone and called Anonymous.
"I found something."
"I assumed you would."
"Celeste Harrison was connected to the university."
There was silence.
"How?"
"Her name appeared in an old photograph with Nathan and Evan Cole."
Anonymous sighed.
"That's interesting."
"Can you find out what she was doing there?"
"I'll try."
"I don't want her to know I'm investigating her."
"Then don't ask her directly."
Ophelia smiled.
"That's exactly what I was thinking."
That afternoon, Ethan picked Ophelia up from the gallery.
"Ready?"
"Where are we going?"
"I told you it was a surprise."
He drove for nearly thirty minutes before stopping outside a quiet bookstore.
Ophelia looked at him.
"A bookstore?"
"Not just any bookstore."
He opened the door.
"Come inside."
The shop was small and peaceful, with shelves reaching almost to the ceiling.
Ophelia looked around with genuine surprise.
"I didn't know this place existed."
"My grandmother used to bring me here."
"Really?"
"Whenever I was younger and couldn't sleep."
He smiled.
"She said books were better company than television."
Ophelia laughed.
"I like your grandmother more every day."
"I'll tell her."
They walked through the shelves together.
Ethan stopped at one section.
"I found something for you."
He handed her a book about art history.
Ophelia looked at the cover.
"You remembered."
"You mentioned it once."
She smiled.
"You remember everything."
"Only the things that matter."
Her smile faded slightly.
The words touched something inside her.
After leaving the bookstore, Ethan took her to a small restaurant nearby.
They spent the evening talking and laughing.
For a few hours, Ophelia allowed herself to forget the investigation.
She forgot Nathan.
She forgot Celeste.
She forgot April's diary.
She simply enjoyed Ethan's company.
But when Ethan drove her home, reality returned.
Her phone was waiting on the table.
One new message.
From Anonymous.
Celeste Harrison was a student assistant at the university eight years ago.
Ophelia stared at the message.
Another followed.
She worked closely with the Fine Arts Department.
Her heart sank.
That was too much of a coincidence.
She typed quickly.
Anything about April?
The reply came several minutes later.
Nothing yet.
Then another message appeared.
But I found something else.
Ophelia waited.
Celeste left the university three weeks before April disappeared.
Ophelia froze.
Three weeks.
Why would Celeste suddenly leave?
And why had no one mentioned it?
She opened April's diary and began turning through the pages.
Then she found it.
A short entry she had read dozens of times without understanding.
Someone I trusted is leaving.
Ophelia stared at the words.
She had always assumed April was talking about a friend.
But now she wasn't so sure.
She reached for her notebook.
At the top of a fresh page, she wrote:
Celeste Harrison
Underneath it, she added:
Left university three weeks before April disappeared.
Then she paused.
One final thought crossed her mind.
Maybe Celeste hadn't left because she wanted to.
Maybe she had been forced to.
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