Chapter 8:The Truth No One Spoke...

The silence in Liam Holloway's house was suffocating.

The voice that had spoken from the shadows sent a cold tremor down my spine.

I knew that voice.

The sound of it reached into the past and dragged old, buried memories to the surface. Memories of whispered conversations in the dead of night. Of secrets exchanged in hushed voices. Of the man I had once thought I knew.

John.

My second husband.

I turned, my breath caught in my throat, my heart hammering like a war drum.

Adrian moved instantly, shifting his weight forward, his hand hovering over the gun holstered at his side. His entire body radiated tension, poised to strike if needed.

Liam's face was unreadable, but his grip on the edge of the table tightened, his knuckles whitening.

The presence in the shadows stepped forward.

A figure emerged from the dimly lit hallway—tall, lean, and wrapped in a long coat that swayed slightly as he moved. His hair was longer than I remembered, streaked with gray at the temples, but his face… his face was the same.

Sharp, calculating, and filled with something unreadable.

"Michael," I breathed.

John's closest friend. His business partner. A man who had vanished not long after John's death.

And now, here he was.

I searched his face for answers, for something that would explain why he was here, why he was standing in the house of a retired journalist—why his voice still carried the weight of secrets left unsaid.

Michael's lips curved into a faint, humorless smile. "It's been a long time, Everly."

Adrian's stance didn't relax. "You know him?"

My throat was dry. "He was John's friend."

Michael let out a low chuckle. "Friend? That's an interesting choice of words."

Liam exhaled heavily, rubbing his temples. "Michael, don't—"

"No, let's not dance around it," Michael interrupted, his gaze locked onto mine. "You came looking for the truth, Everly, didn't you?"

I swallowed hard. "I came looking for answers."

Michael stepped closer, and Adrian immediately blocked his path, his presence a solid barrier between us.

Michael lifted a brow, unimpressed. "Still surrounding yourself with protectors, I see."

Adrian didn't move, his expression impassive. "Step back."

Michael raised his hands in mock surrender, but amusement flickered in his eyes. "Relax, I'm not here to harm her. If I wanted to, I would've done it a long time ago."

A shiver crawled up my spine.

Michael's gaze returned to me. "You want to know why John's name was written on that paper?"

I nodded.

He exhaled and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. "Because John wasn't just your husband. He was investigating something—something dangerous. And it got him killed."

A sharp silence filled the room.

I felt my breath catch. "What?"

Liam sighed and took a step forward. "Everly… John didn't die in an accident. He was murdered."

The world tilted for a moment.

I heard the words, but they felt distant, as though they had to fight through layers of disbelief to reach me.

Murdered.

I shook my head, unable to process it. "No. That doesn't make sense. The police—"

"The police were paid off," Michael cut in. "The official report was fabricated. The truth was buried."

My knees felt weak. I reached for the nearest chair and sank into it, my fingers tightening around the edge of the table.

Adrian moved closer to me, his presence grounding. He didn't say anything, but I felt the weight of his concern.

I forced myself to breathe. "Why? What was John investigating?"

Michael hesitated, his expression darkening. "He never told me the full picture. But I know it had something to do with a powerful organization. Something bigger than him."

I clenched my fists. "Then why is my name on that list?"

Liam and Michael exchanged glances.

And suddenly, I understood.

My heart pounded. "John left something behind, didn't he? Something they think I have."

Liam nodded. "I believe so. And if they think you have it, they won't stop coming after you."

I ran a hand through my hair, frustration bubbling beneath my skin. "I don't have anything."

Michael's jaw tightened. "Then we need to find out what John left behind before they do."

The room felt smaller, the walls pressing in.

This wasn't just about John anymore.

It was about survival.

And for the first time since this all started… I wasn't sure if I was ready for the answers.

Adrian and I left Liam's house an hour later.

The sun had begun to rise, casting an eerie glow over the quiet streets.

Neither of us spoke at first. The weight of everything we had learned sat between us, thick and unshakable.

Finally, Adrian broke the silence. "Are you okay?"

I let out a shaky breath. "No."

His gaze lingered on me. "You handled that well."

I laughed hollowly. "Is that what it looked like?"

He didn't reply. He didn't need to.

I turned my attention back to the road ahead.

John had been investigating something dangerous. He had been murdered because of it.

And now, the people responsible thought I had whatever he left behind.

I had been running from my past for years.

But it had finally caught up to me.

And I was out of places to hide.

Back at the safehouse, I sat at the small table in the living room, staring at the slip of paper with John's name.

My mind was a storm of questions.

Adrian moved around the room, checking the windows and doors before finally sitting across from me.

"We need to figure out our next move," he said.

I exhaled slowly. "Liam said John left something behind. But what? And where?"

Adrian leaned back, thinking. "If he knew he was in danger, he would've hidden it somewhere safe."

A thought struck me. My stomach twisted.

"There is… one place."

Adrian's eyes sharpened. "Where?"

I hesitated, then met his gaze. "Our old house."

The house John and I had lived in before he died.

The place I had abandoned after his death, unable to bear the memories.

Adrian studied me. "Can you go back there?"

I swallowed. "I have to."

Because somewhere in that house, buried in the past I had tried to escape…

Was the key to everything.

And I had no choice but to find it.