THE JOURNAL

The dust motes danced in the pale sunlight filtering through the grimy window of the abandoned attic. Elana traced a finger along the faded inscription on the dusty, leather-bound journal: Banky Lockwood, 1997. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic rhythm echoing the urgency that had driven her to this forsaken place. She had spent years researching the unsolved murders of Banky Lockwood, a chilling saga that had haunted her family for generations. Her grandmother, a renowned historian, had dedicated her life to uncovering the truth, only to die with the mystery unresolved. Elana had inherited her grandmother's obsession, fueled by a burning desire to find answers and finally lay the ghosts of Banky Lockwood to rest. The journal, discovered tucked away in a forgotten corner of the Lockwoods' attic, felt like a bridge to the past, a whisper from the shadows. She flipped through the yellowed pages, her breath catching in her throat as a faded ink drawing materialized – a portrait of a young woman, her eyes filled with a haunting sorrow that mirrored Elana's own. The inscription beneath read: My dearest Amelia, may this journal be your solace in these dark times.

Elana's fingers trembled as she traced the inscription. This wasn't just a journal; it was a lifeline to a truth long buried. She could feel the weight of history pressing down on her, a palpable sense of urgency pushing her forward. Still trying to glean clues from the journal, a sharp knock distracted her."The door is open," her soft, feminine voice filled the room as a tall, dark man in a suit walked in with a very worried expression on his face. "Ana, Mr. Lookwood is requesting a meeting concerning the progress of the investigation. Sincerely speaking, Miss Ana, he's really pissed, and I heard he's very dangerous when in such a mood," Bilal stated, dabbing sweat from his furrowed brows and worry lines. Speaking calmly, Elana replied, "Thank you, Bilal. I'll prepare for the meeting; kindly forward the venue and time to me," she said softly. Taking a deep breath, Bilal walked out of the room. Elana stood up, adjusted her suit, and picked up the necessary files needed for the meeting, but first, She needed very cold water to relax her fast-beating heart before walking out of her office. She turned back one more time and took a long glance at the journal in front of her desk, contemplating whether to take it or not. Concluding it wasn't necessary, she hid the journal with a lock in one of her drawers and made her way out, assuring its safety.

Walking down the driveway, Elana made her way to settle in, taking deep breaths to calm her nerves. Not that she was afraid of the meeting, but she just didn't know what reaction to expect from Mr. Lockwood. With one subtle look at the rearview mirror, an art she had perfected when trying to communicate with herself yet with masked emotions—less than half an hour later, she was parked right in front of LOCKWOOD HOLDINGS, a company that has been making not just waves but tsunamis in the economic and security sector of the county. This company is where all the profitable and dangerous deals are made and in less than an hour, she'd be sitting Infront of the most feared man. Not that she's scared of him but she very much don't want to get in his way. Taking in one last deep breath, she masked her expression with the most nonchalant look she could muster and walked elegantly towards the building. 'well, here goes nothing' she muttered.