Cypher

~Nariya Patel~

As I prepared for bedtime, I completed my skincare routine and slipped into the comforting embrace of my soft pajamas. The simplicity of tonight's dinner brought a sense of fulfillment, yet amidst the company of my ever-faithful cat, Mao, I couldn't help but feel a subtle yearning for shared meals with someone else. The day's routine had been more demanding than usual, and with a free day awaiting me tomorrow, I made the decision to turn in early.

Biting my lips in contemplation, I idly scrolled through my phone once more, only to find my eyes widening as I perused the myriad of messages—most of them sent by me. Amidst the digital sea, a particular message, one I was certain I had deleted, resurfaced like a ghost from the past. Letting out a sigh, I hoped the intended recipient had been preoccupied and might overlook the reappearance, prompting me to promptly delete the text once again.

With Nyx, my feline companion, comfortably settled in bed, I gave her a few affectionate kisses before snuggling under the warmth of my comforter. As I closed my eyes, I felt a sense of tranquility washing over me. "Oh, beautiful lands of dreams, here I come," I thought, allowing my lids to gradually succumb to the embrace of sleep.

As I teetered on the delicate precipice between consciousness and the embrace of deep slumber, I found myself entangled in a web of thoughts—a small window where wisdom warned against entertaining any weighty concerns. Alas, I succumbed to the temptation, and my eyes snapped open with a groan, accompanied by the murmured lament, "Why do I always remember important things right before sleeping?"

Nearly a week had passed since the events that had thrown my world into a whirlwind, and in the calm aftermath, my mind finally decided to retrieve a minute yet crucial detail that had become entangled in the chaos. A minute thing, overshadowed by the hurricane of that day, now resurfaced, demanding attention in the tranquility of the night.

Contemplating my choices, I wavered between the allure of my warm comforter and the insatiable curiosity for knowledge that had the potential to pierce through my resolve. Slowly groaning, I cast aside the comforter, causing Nyx to startle in confusion. Apologizing to my feline companion, I made my way toward the desk, retrieving my bag and extracting a neon envelope from within.

The events of the day, from exams to purse snatching, and the enigmatic encounter with Handler and Shu Mao, had drained my energy reserves to near depletion. Hence, this seemingly insignificant letter had slipped from my immediate recollection. A sigh escaped me as I slumped onto the bed, a train of thoughts coursing through my mind, entwining with the echoes of the day's tumultuous events.

As I held the neon envelope in my hands, a sense of oddity permeated my thoughts. "Throughout the building, I saw not a single senior or student carry a letter like this," I pondered. "If it were a congratulatory message, there would be some buzz circulating, but no, not a single soul seemed to be carrying such a letter."

Suddenly, an absurd and intrusive thought sprouted in my mind, and I shook it off, dismissing the irrational notion. Yet, that persistent inner voice persisted.

"Could it be... you know, a letter of confession... of loveeee?" the mischievous voice sang in my head.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up," I chided myself, blushing at the mere notion. The idea of receiving a love letter seemed far-fetched, particularly in a place like Elenor Finchley where status often took precedence over physical attraction. Moreover, I had never considered myself attracted to the same gender before.

"Then again, that's true because I am attracted to..." I trailed off, snapping my cheeks with both hands, my face now fiercely ablaze.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!!!" I scolded myself, trying to dispel the intrusive thoughts.

With a resigned sigh, I murmured, "No point in making assumptions; I should just find out what's in it." Bracing myself for potential surprises, I gingerly opened the neon envelope, unraveling the mystery that awaited inside.

With cautious anticipation, I delicately peeled back the flap of the neon envelope, greeted by a subtle waft of jasmine as the scent lightly clung to the paper. The fragrance lingered momentarily in the air. Inside, nestled within the vibrant envelope, lay a neatly folded white sheet. Taking care not to damage either the envelope or its contents, I gently retrieved the paper.

As I unfolded the sheet, I noticed the faint writing seeping through the almost parchment-thin paper. Ensuring the envelope was devoid of any additional surprises, I focused on the details of the letter. Bordered on two sides, the parchment bore enchanting penmanship that added an air of mystery to the unfolding narrative.

My eyes widened as I read the simple yet impactful words meticulously crafted on the paper. The remarkable penmanship seemed to breathe life into the message, leaving me captivated by the words that adorned the page.

"Good day Nariya, 

We know what happened to your mother. Don't trust anyone.

If you want to know more find us.

Eve"

In an instant, the letter slipped from my hands and fluttered to the ground as my feet propelled me toward the door. I was poised to call out, "Al..." until my voice caught in my throat. No words emerged as I stood frozen, my entire body quivering with revulsion. The sharp rasps of my breathing reverberated in the room, and it felt as if the floor had melted beneath my feet.

Slowly regaining composure, I retraced my steps to the bed, retrieving the fallen letter from the ground. My eyes scanned the words repeatedly, engraving the entirety of the content into my mind. A blankness enveloped my thoughts, and the ability to comprehend English seemed to elude me.

Shaking my head in denial, I repeated, "No, no, no, no..." A sharp pain gripped my chest as I clenched it, struggling against the harsh reality that unfolded before me. "This is not possible," I whispered in denial, grappling with the disbelief that threatened to consume me. "Yeah, Alex told me... nothing would happen," I murmured into the abyss.

With trembling hands, I picked up my phone and dialed Alexie's number. Despite his prior notification of a hectic schedule, I had only attempted to reach him through text messages. This situation, however, felt distinctly urgent. Normally, I would have dismissed the letter as a prank, but the haunting images of the man who had trailed us lingered in my memory.

Licking my lips nervously, I waited for the caller tune to end, silently praying, "Please... Please..." My hopes plummeted as a mechanical voice announced that the call couldn't be connected due to the recipient being out of network. Utter disappointment and a sense of helplessness washed over me, intensifying the weight of the revelation contained within the enigmatic letter.

A defeated sigh escaped my lips, and a numbness settled over me once more. Pressing my head with cold palms, I contemplated my options and whom to trust in this perplexing situation. In a moment of clarity, I snapped and made my way to the drawer, retrieving a notebook. I meticulously penned down my tumultuous train of thoughts, attempting to organize the chaos within my mind.

"Of course, silly," I scolded myself, realizing the absurdity of questioning the loyalty of those who had cared for me for so long versus a cryptic message from an unknown sender. Fueled by a surge of adrenaline, I rushed out, heading toward the guest room and urgently banging on the door. Mao swiftly emerged, a dagger in hand, her reaction more professional than mine. Gesturing that there were no intruders, I explained that I wanted to discuss the mysterious letter I had received.

Taking the letter from my hand with care, Mao read through it repeatedly. As I nervously babbled about my trust in Alex, my words faltered when I noticed the worry etched on the girl's face. Delicately, I asked, "Mao, what happened?" hoping to unravel the unease that now clouded her expression.

Ignoring my repeated inquiries, Mao turned pale, her gaze fixed on a corner. Frantically, she caught hold of my arm and hurriedly dragged me into my room. My repeated protests of "Mao, you're scaring me" echoed behind her. In a flurry, she shut the door with a loud bang, startling Nyx into a frightened leap. While I tried to soothe the startled feline, Mao paced around the room as if in search of something.

Calling her name once more, I watched as she only relaxed after double-checking a specific spot. Sighing in relief, she sat beside me, visibly tired. An air of worry crept into my voice as I questioned, "Mao, what is this about? What are you doi-" My words froze when I saw the genuinely scared expression on her face. In a sudden motion, she grasped my shoulder, halting my movements as I focused on her in the pale moonlight filtering through the window.

"Listen to me carefully, Nari," she gestured rapidly. With improved reading skills, I managed to keep up with her. "That man is dangerous."

"That man?" I whispered, my words nearly lost.

Sighing, Mao continued, "Your caretaker, Alexie Ivanov, is a dangerous man."

Confusion clouded my mind as Mao's words left me bewildered. Despite understanding each word, their collective meaning eluded me. I couldn't fathom the significance of her revelation. In a feeble attempt to make sense of it, I laughed nervously and asked, "What... what are you saying?" My ability to process information seemed compromised, my head spinning with an overload of conflicting thoughts.

Mao, seemingly hesitant yet resolute, continued, "Listen, I can't tell you much about what he does, but he's not a good man. I'm risking my life telling you, but the man is not a good person. I don't know what he does, but I've seen men like him—they are ruthless, cunning, and unforgiving. I hope you don't think ill of me, for I am no better." She sighed, but the weight of her words lingered in the air, my mind struggling to grasp the enormity of the revelation.

Scratching her arms, Mao looked down and added, "Listen, Nari, I need to tell you the truth. I..." Her voice trembled with a hint of fear. "I am an assassin working under my uncle, Handler. We are not who you think we are..."

"What..." I breathed out her confession, the surreal nature of her revelation colliding with the suppressed thoughts that had been struggling to surface.

Her gaze, genuinely gentle, held a sincerity that cut through the turmoil surrounding me. She continued, "You are a good person, Nari. You don't belong in this corrupted world of ours."

As the weight of Mao's revelation sank in, I rushed in a frenzy to a drawer, hastily throwing books and notebooks aside until I found the one I was looking for. Flipping through its pages, I came to an abrupt stop at the section where I had noted down Alexie's character profiling. However, my vision blurred, and a piercing headache assaulted me.

Job: Developer (Maybe?)

Summoning all my strength, I pulled out my pen and began to create a timeline of events, documenting them in chronological order as they occurred this month.

'Dad disappears: Around last week of September,

I get a letter with Dad's acquaintance contact

Where is that letter: burned.

Meet this person on rooftop a week later.

Saves me in the alley.

Has Legal Guardianship paper.

Takes care of me when I'm injured.'

"But, but..." I attempted to reason, the seeds of doubt taking root in my mind. Alexie's caring and respectful demeanor clashed with the unsettling timeline that now stared back at me. Skepticism blossomed, and the weight of secrecy and warning signs flooded my thoughts.

Mao gently coaxed me, expressing her regret, "I'm sorry, Nari. I shouldn't have... But I've seen the way he cares for you. Yet, I warn you as a friend..."

A surge of disbelief surged through me, and I screamed at her in hysteria, "Leave me... that's not... true."

"Nari," she breathed out, deciding to give me space.

Lying on the cold floor, I felt a spark of hope piercing through the pain in my heart. Flipping to the page where I had previously weighed my options, I desperately tried to dial Alexie's number once again, only to be met with a dead line. The isolation of the room mirrored the solitude of my spiraling thoughts.