Part 7 – The Truth About Mercy
“You’re not supposed to be in here.”
His voice cut through the air like a blade.
I turned slowly, my heart hammering so loudly I thought he could hear it.
Brian stood by the doorway, towel around his neck, his phone in hand. His expression — unreadable.
“I was just… checking something,” I stammered.
He smiled. The kind of smile that never reaches the eyes.
“On my laptop?”
I said nothing. The silence between us stretched long enough for fear to fill every inch of the room.
He walked over, calm, deliberate. Then he reached for the laptop, closed it, and whispered,
“Don’t ever open that folder again.”
His tone wasn’t angry — it was warning.
Cold. Controlled.
Dangerous.
That night, I couldn’t stop thinking about Mercy. The email. The photo.
How was she alive if he said she was dead?
I waited until he fell asleep. His breathing deepened. His phone vibrated once — and I saw her name flash again:
Mercy ❤️.
I slipped out of bed, grabbed my car keys, and left.
I didn’t know where I was going — until I found myself outside Ridgeview Hotel. The place from the receipt.
The security guard looked at me strangely when I showed him the paper.
“Do you remember this man?” I asked, pointing to Brian’s name.
The guard hesitated, then nodded. “Yes… he comes here often. Always with the same lady.”
I braced myself. “Her name?”
He frowned, thinking. “I think it was… Mercy.”
My blood ran cold.
I showed him my ID photo. “Does she look like me?”
He stared at it for a long time before whispering, “Exactly like you.”
I drove home in silence, my mind spinning.
Who was she?
Why did she look like me?
When I reached the gate, a white envelope was wedged between the bars. No name. Just one word scribbled in black ink:
“STOP.”
🔥 To be continued…
👉 Read Part 8 – The Trap