Chương 3
She left the house twelve minutes later with Noah sitting beside her in the passenger seat.
Neither of them spoke as Clara backed out of the driveway.
The porch light stayed on behind them.
She watched it in the rearview mirror until the house disappeared.
Noah kept his hands folded in his lap.
“You’re mad at me.”
“Yes.”
“I figured.”
“You should be.”
“I know.”
Clara gripped the steering wheel.
“You have to stop saying that.”
“Sorry.”
“That too.”
He looked out the window.
For a while they drove in silence.
The streets passed by in familiar pieces.
The grocery store where their mother always bought flowers.
The elementary school where Noah once got suspended for climbing onto the roof during a science project.
The coffee shop where Clara practiced finger exercises before auditions because the owner let her sit in the back corner for hours.
Everything looked normal.
That was the worst part.
“How long have you known something was wrong?” Clara asked.
Noah did not answer immediately.
“Since last month.”
Her stomach tightened.
“Last month?”
“I didn’t know what it was.”
“What happened last month?”
He rubbed his thumb against the side of his hand.
“There was a man outside the house.”
Clara glanced at him.
“What man?”
“I don’t know.”
“You didn’t tell Dad?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because every time I tried to say something, it sounded stupid.”
“Try me.”
Noah looked embarrassed.
“Okay.”
He took a breath.
“He was always parked across the street.”
Clara waited.
“Like a neighbor?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he never got out.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“I know.”
She almost snapped at him again but stopped.
He was not arguing.
He was admitting uncertainty.
“He was there three nights,” Noah continued.
“Only three?”
“No.”
Clara looked at him.
“How many?”
“More.”
“How many more?”
“I don’t know.”
The answer frustrated her.
But underneath it was something else.
She could hear the difference between someone hiding information and someone who had been too scared to organize what they knew.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Noah gave a small laugh.
Not because it was funny.
Because the question was impossible.
“You were always busy.”
Clara frowned.
“That’s not fair.”
“No.”
He stared out the window.
“It isn’t.”
The admission softened the blow.
“You’re right.”
Noah nodded.
“I know you had auditions.”
“I could have made time.”
“You say that now.”
The words were quiet.
Clara had no response.
The community arts center occupied an old brick building that used to be a church before the city converted it into classrooms and rehearsal spaces.
At night, only half the lights were on.
The parking lot was mostly empty except for a few cars belonging to teachers who stayed late.
Clara parked near the entrance.
Noah reached for the door handle.
“Stay here.”
He looked at her.
“You just said you weren’t going alone.”
“I meant I wasn’t going without knowing what was happening.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“It is tonight.”
Noah looked like he wanted to argue.
Then he stopped.
That was unusual enough that Clara noticed.
“What?”
“You look scared.”
She almost laughed.
“Thank you.”
“No.”
His expression changed.
“I mean you don’t usually look scared.”
The honesty bothered her more than comfort would have.
She got out of the car.
Inside, the hallway smelled like old wood, dust, and the faint sweetness of the cleaning products the staff used after concerts.
A handwritten sign on the wall announced the upcoming student recital.
Clara stared at it for a moment.
Her name was listed among the guest performers.
She had forgotten.
Or maybe she had been trying to forget.
A door opened at the end of the hall.
A young violin student walked out carrying a case almost as big as she was.
The girl smiled politely at Clara.
Then she noticed Noah.
Her smile disappeared.
That tiny reaction made Clara stop.
“Do you know him?” Clara asked.
The girl looked uncomfortable.
“No.”
She walked away too quickly.
Clara watched her leave.
“What was that?”
Noah shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
Again.
Before Clara could respond, a voice came from behind her.
“Clara.”
She turned.
Elena Alvarez stood in the doorway of Studio Three.
She looked exactly the way Clara remembered.
Dark hair pulled back loosely.
Black sweater.
A tired expression that made her seem older than she actually was.
But there was something different.
Her eyes moved immediately to Noah.
Not surprise.
Not confusion.
Recognition.
“You shouldn’t have brought him here,” Elena said.
Clara felt the words hit harder than she expected.
“Why?”
Elena looked down the hallway.
Then she stepped back inside the room.
“Because now they know you’re asking questions.”
Clara did not move.
“Who is they?”
Elena closed her eyes briefly.
It was the first time Clara had ever seen her look defeated.
“Come inside.”
“No.”
Elena looked at her.
“If you stay in the hallway, anyone walking by can hear this.”
“That sounds like something someone says when they have something to hide.”
A painful expression crossed Elena’s face.
“You think I don’t know that?”
The anger in her voice was sudden.
Human.
Not rehearsed.
She lowered it immediately.
“I’m sorry.”
Clara held her ground.
“What was on the phone?”
Elena looked at Noah.
Then back at Clara.
“You saw it.”
“No.”
“I’m not talking about the phone.”
She stepped closer.
“I’m talking about the reason someone left it for him to find.”
Clara felt her pulse quicken.
“Someone left it?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Elena looked toward the empty hallway.
“Someone who wanted me to see it.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m the only person who could tell you the truth.”
Clara waited.
The sentence sounded impossible.
Too dramatic.
Too clean.
But Elena did not look like someone trying to create drama.
She looked like someone who had spent too long trying to keep a door closed with both hands.
“What truth?” Clara asked.
Elena’s face changed.
A small movement.
May you like
A decision.
Then she walked to the desk, opened a drawer, and removed a worn envelope.
