The missing friend

Chapter 2: The Missing Friend

Eloise lay awake that night, staring at the ceiling, her thoughts a tangled mess.

The house was quiet. Too quiet.

Daniel had gone to bed hours ago, but she could still feel his presence, lingering, like a shadow that never quite left. She shifted under the blanket, her fingers curling around her phone.

DON'T TRUST HIM. FIND ME BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE.

The message was still there, staring back at her like a silent scream.

Her fingers trembled as she clicked on the unknown number, heart hammering.

She typed:

Who are you?

She hesitated before hitting send, fear curling in her gut. If this was some kind of mistake, if she was being paranoid…

But deep down, she knew she wasn't.

The message sent.

Seconds passed. Then a minute. Then two.

Nothing.

She exhaled shakily, shutting her eyes. Maybe she wouldn't get an answer. Maybe she was on her own.

Then—her phone vibrated.

Her eyes snapped open. A new message.

She swallowed hard and clicked it open.

You don't remember me. But I remember you. Meet me tomorrow. 3 PM. Café Le Rue. Come alone.

A sharp knock on the bedroom door made her nearly drop the phone.

"Eloise?"

Daniel's voice.

She stuffed the phone under her pillow, turning onto her side. "Yeah?"

A pause. Then, "You okay?"

Her pulse pounded. "Just couldn't sleep."

Another pause. Then footsteps retreating down the hall.

She let out a slow, shaky breath.

Tomorrow, she would get answers.

The next afternoon, Eloise stood on the sidewalk outside Café Le Rue, her hands clenched inside her coat pockets.

The small café looked ordinary enough—warm lighting, customers chatting over coffee. But her stomach twisted with nerves.

Would she recognize the person she was meeting?

Was she walking into danger?

She glanced over her shoulder. No sign of Daniel.

With a deep breath, she stepped inside.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air. She scanned the tables, searching for anyone looking at her—waiting for her.

Then, her eyes landed on a man in the corner.

Tall. Dark hair. Sharp eyes.

The same man she had seen on the street yesterday.

He lifted his gaze and met hers.

Recognition flickered in his expression.

Eloise's breath hitched.

She knew him.

Not by name. Not by memory.

But by the way her heart reacted—fast, unsteady, like it had been jolted awake.

He gestured to the seat across from him. "Sit."

She hesitated, glancing around. No one was paying attention to them.

Slowly, she walked over and slid into the chair.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then, he leaned forward.

"How much do you remember?"

Her throat went dry. "Nothing."

His jaw tensed. "That's what I was afraid of."

She swallowed. "Who are you?"

A pause. Then—

"My name is Adrian. And I'm the man you were about to run away with."

The words slammed into her like a wrecking ball.

She stared at him, her heart racing. "What?"

"You and I—" He exhaled sharply, glancing around before lowering his voice. "You found out something. Something about Daniel. Something that put you in danger. We were supposed to leave together, but—" He clenched his fists. "Something happened before we could."

Her chest tightened. "What do you mean something happened?"

His eyes darkened. "You disappeared."

Eloise's pulse pounded so loudly she could barely hear anything else.

She had planned to run away? With him?

She tried to grasp onto the memory, but her mind was a locked door, refusing to open.

"I don't—" Her voice cracked. "I don't remember any of this."

"You will," Adrian said, watching her closely. "But you don't have much time. Daniel is dangerous, Eloise. You need to get out."

Panic swelled in her chest.

"Why?" she whispered. "What did I find out?"

Adrian hesitated. Then—

"You found out Daniel killed your sister."

Eloise's breath left her in a sharp, painful gasp.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "That's not—"

"You had proof," Adrian pressed. "You came to me, terrified. You told me Daniel wasn't who he claimed to be. We were going to disappear before he could stop you."

Eloise's body trembled.

Her sister.

Dead?

Killed?

By Daniel?

She shot up from the table, her chair scraping against the floor. "I have to go."

Adrian grabbed her wrist, not hard, but firm enough to make her stop. "Eloise. Listen to me."

She yanked her arm free, heart hammering.

Everything inside her screamed to run.

So

she did.

Out of the café. Down the street. Away from the truth that was crashing down on her like a tidal wave.

But no matter how fast she ran—

The fear followed.

Eloise ran.

She didn't know where she was going—her legs just moved on instinct, her pulse hammering in her ears.

The streets blurred. Faces passed. Cars honked.

But all she could hear was Adrian's voice repeating in her head.

Daniel killed your sister.

No. No. That wasn't possible.

Daniel was her husband. He had taken care of her, held her hand in the hospital, told her he loved her.

Hadn't he?

A sharp pain shot through her temple. The world tilted for a second, like a flickering lightbulb about to go out.

She grabbed a nearby lamppost, breathing hard.

Something was wrong with her memory.

She knew it now. Knew it deep in her bones.

The missing pieces. The perfectly staged photos. The way Daniel watched her, like he was waiting for something.

She had been erased.

And the worst part?

She didn't know how much of her life was real—and how much of it was a lie.

She didn't remember how she got home.

One moment, she was stumbling through the streets, and the next, she was inside the house, standing in the middle of the dark living room.

The door clicked shut behind her.

Slow. Deliberate.

A cold shiver crawled down her spine.

She turned around.

Daniel stood there, watching her.

Her throat tightened. "I—"

"Where were you?" His voice was calm. Too calm.

She forced herself to breathe. "I just needed some air."

His eyes flickered over her face, like he was searching for something.

Then he smiled. "You should've told me. I was worried."

The words felt like a trap.

Like he was testing her.

She managed a small nod, her fingers clenching the fabric of her coat. "I'm fine. Just…tired."

He studied her for a moment longer before stepping forward, lifting a hand to cup her cheek.

She flinched.

Just slightly. Just for a fraction of a second.

But he noticed.

His fingers froze against her skin.

Then, so subtly it was almost invisible—his grip tightened.

A quiet, suffocating tension filled the room.

"You should get some rest," he murmured, his thumb brushing over her cheek. "I'll take care of everything."

Her stomach twisted.

She wanted to scream.

Wanted to run.

But she couldn't.

Not yet.

So she swallowed down the terror and nodded. "Okay."

His lips curled into a slow, knowing smile.

"Good girl."

She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, forcing herself to keep breathing.

She wasn't safe here.

She never had been.

Adrian had been right.

Daniel wasn't her savior. He wasn't her husband.

He was her prison.

And if she didn't get out soon—

She would never remember the truth.

Because he would make sure she never did.