Chapter 3: The Rumor

Sarah's expression shifted from surprise to intrigue, a mischievous glint flickering in her hazel eyes. The two women were seated in the quiet corner of their living room, the soft hum of conversations and clinking cups providing a comforting background. Emma leaned forward, sensing the change in Sarah's demeanor.

"You know, Emma," Sarah began, drawing out her words slowly, "there’s something you should know about Jonathan Blackwell’s reputation. It’s… quite infamous, actually."

Emma tilted her head, her curiosity instantly piqued. “Infamous? That’s a strong word, Sarah. What are you talking about?”

Sarah glanced around as if to make sure no one was listening. Then, with a sly smirk, she leaned closer, lowering her voice. “They say Jonathan Blackwell isn’t his real name.”

Emma blinked, unsure if she’d heard her correctly. “What?”

“Exactly what I said.” Sarah’s voice was quiet but insistent. “According to what I’ve heard, he changed it when he became a prominent figure in the business world. His original name apparently carried a lot of… baggage.”

Emma stared at her friend, her mind reeling. “Baggage? What kind of baggage?”

Sarah shrugged slightly, but her eyes sparkled with barely concealed excitement. “No one seems to know the full story. But rumor has it he wanted to distance himself from his past. Whatever it was, it must have been significant enough for him to reinvent his entire identity.”

Emma sat back in her seat, her thoughts spinning. Jonathan Blackwell, the composed, enigmatic man she had only begun to understand, might not even be who he claimed to be? She frowned. “So what was his original name?”

Sarah paused for a moment, clearly enjoying the suspense. Then she whispered, “Harrison Campbell.”

Emma’s breath caught. The name struck her like a bolt of lightning unexpected, electrifying, and chilling. She felt the air around her grow heavy.

“Harrison Campbell?” she echoed, the name tasting foreign on her tongue and yet oddly familiar.

Sarah observed her reaction closely, her curiosity now tinged with concern. “You recognize it, don’t you?”

Emma looked down, trying to hide the ripple of recognition passing through her. “I think I might have come across it somewhere... maybe during some of the research I was doing on Jonathan a while back. It was just a mention, but yes, it did stand out.”

“I thought so,” Sarah said quietly. “The name carries weight. It’s tied to something.”

Emma nodded slowly, her fingers lightly tracing the rim of her coffee cup. “But why change it? Why hide who he was?”

“Maybe he had something to escape from,” Sarah said. “Or maybe he just didn’t want people connecting him to whatever legacy Harrison Campbell left behind. Either way, it’s not something you do unless you have a reason.”

Emma was silent for a moment. Her thoughts swirled like a storm. She remembered Jonathan’s quiet demeanor, the haunted look he sometimes wore, the moments when he seemed far away, as if battling a memory he didn’t want to share.

And yet, he’d always been respectful. Kind. Professional. There was no tangible sign of deception only shadows that now, in light of Sarah’s revelation, seemed more ominous than mysterious.

She looked up again. “Sarah, are you sure about this?”

Sarah hesitated, then nodded. “As sure as I can be about something that’s only ever whispered in hushed tones. I wouldn’t have brought it up if I didn’t think it mattered.”

Emma chewed on her bottom lip, a nervous habit she’d never broken. “It’s just a rumor, though, right? We can’t jump to conclusions.”

“Of course not,” Sarah agreed. “But sometimes rumors carry seeds of truth. That’s why they survive.”

Emma sighed, feeling the weight of uncertainty settle on her shoulders. “I appreciate you telling me. But I don’t want to be part of a gossip chain. Not unless there’s something concrete. I don’t want to judge someone on whispers.”

Sarah nodded solemnly. “That’s fair. But keep it in the back of your mind, Emma. Especially if you’re getting close to him.”

“I’m not,” Emma said too quickly, then faltered at the look Sarah gave her.

“Aren’t you?” Sarah asked gently.

Emma didn’t answer. Her silence said more than words could.

They let the subject hang in the air, tension simmering beneath the surface as they returned to sipping their coffee in silence. Outside, the city moved as usual loud, fast, indifferent to the quiet unraveling of personal revelations happening in that tucked-away room corner.

But inside Emma, something had shifted. A name had awoken a trail of questions she could no longer ignore.