The word settled heavily.
Trap.
After the call, I felt steadier but not lighter. Priya had agreed to represent me for the emergency phase and help connect me with longer-term support. She had also instructed me to document every message, avoid direct contact with Evan’s circle, and make no trips to Briar Lake.
Nora was delighted by that last part.
“I love Priya,” she said. “Priya is my favorite person.”
“You’ve never met her.”
“I know enough.”
By afternoon, the rain cleared. Sunlight broke through the clouds and turned the wet leaves silver. Daniel came by after school with groceries and a stack of old newspapers from the library archive because apparently “not getting involved” meant conducting a full historical investigation with snacks.
“I found one more thing,” he said, placing the papers on the kitchen table.
Nora narrowed her eyes. “Should we be worried about your definition of one?”
“It’s just one article.”
He unfolded a photocopy.
The headline was from eleven years earlier.
Briar Lake Scholarship Program Quietly Discontinued
The article was short. It mentioned that the Reed family’s arts scholarship, long considered a prestigious opportunity for local students, had ended unexpectedly due to “private family restructuring.” No scandal. No explanation.
But halfway down, a sentence had been underlined in yellow.
The final recipient of the scholarship, Anna Moretti, could not be reached for comment.
“Who underlined it?” I asked.
Daniel shook his head. “No idea. The copy was already marked in the archive folder.”
Nora tapped the paper. “Someone else was looking for her.”
I thought of the unknown number.
Before Lily, remember Anna.
Maybe someone had been waiting for years to send that message.
Noah began to fuss from the living room, saving me from answering. I went to him gratefully.
