Nadine_Elyna_0981

Ava Mitchell returns to New York after a year in hiding following the tragic death of her fiancé, Ben Carter, in a Times Square accident. Her life has never been the same. But when Ava sees a man who looks exactly like Ben, her beliefs begin to crumble. Could Ben still be alive? Or is there a much bigger secret waiting to be uncovered?

In her search for answers, Ava is pulled into a world of disguises, betrayal, and deadly conspiracies. Amid the chaos of New York City, Ava must choose: pursue the love she lost, or save herself from the danger closing in.

What Remains Of Us (Yang Tersisa dari Kita)

The stale air of the underground tunnel clung to Ava's lungs like dust to old velvet. Her boots pressed into damp stone as she moved forward, hand tracing the jagged wall, guided only by the narrow beam of her flashlight. The silence was no longer suffocating—it was anticipatory, humming with the electricity of something about to give.

She stepped over an old, broken pipe, the clink of metal echoing too loudly. Her breath was steady, mind racing with everything she'd uncovered: the ledger, the cassette, the files hidden behind false walls, and Caroline's final words. It all pointed to one name that was never supposed to matter: Cassandra.

Each turn in the corridor took her deeper into the foundations of Waverly House—and closer to the source of the cover-up that cost her brother his life. The deeper she went, the more the truth clawed its way to the surface.

Ava reached a rusted iron door, half-covered by crumbling plaster. She brushed it away to reveal a faded symbol etched into the metal—a laurel ring around an eye. The sigil from the tape. The one Ben had drawn on the corner of his letter.

She inserted the second key she'd found in the hollow of her brother's old lamp base and twisted. The mechanism groaned in protest before unlocking with a reluctant click.

The room behind the door was vast and circular, like a forgotten war chamber. Shelves stacked with ancient documents and dusty reels lined the walls. In the center stood a singular steel table, spotless.

On it lay a file folder with her name.

She approached slowly, flipped it open. Inside: a photo of herself taken three weeks ago—blurry, from across a street. And another, clearer one from Boston, where she and Caroline had lunch. Her breath hitched. They'd been watching her all along.

Behind her, the door slammed shut.

"You should've stopped digging, Ava."

Julian Reyes. Ben's old mentor. The archivist. The man who claimed to be a friend of the family.

"Me," he said, stepping into the dim light. "You always reminded me of Ben. Same fire. Same recklessness."

Ava clenched her fists. "You were supposed to protect him."

Julian looked almost sad. "He asked too many questions. Like you."

She moved toward the table, hand brushing against her pocket—she still had the recorder.

"Why?" she asked. "Why go through all this?"

He hesitated. "Because some things are bigger than the truth. Because sometimes, history needs to be edited."

Ava shook her head. "That's not your choice."

Julian took a step closer. "It was never personal."

She laughed bitterly. "It is now."

In one swift motion, she pulled the recorder from her coat and pressed play. The cassette began to spin, Caroline's voice crackling into the room.

"If you hear this, Ava, it means they got to me too... but you need to know the truth about Cassandra..."

Julian's face twisted. "Turn it off."

The truth echoed into the room, unstoppable.

Footsteps began to pound down the corridor behind the sealed door.

Ava backed toward the shelves, grabbing the folder, and dove behind the far cabinet. Julian lunged. The room erupted into chaos.

But Ava had what she came for. And now, she had names.

Chapter 21 - Truth Unveiled