Natalia sat in her cubicle, completely consumed by her own thoughts, the sounds of the office fading into the background. Her mind wandered, replaying moments from yesterday. Suddenly, the sharp ring of the phone cut through the haze, snapping her back to reality.
Glancing at the screen, she saw it was the forensic cybersecurity expert she had met yesterday. A strange feeling settled in her chest as she picked up the phone, trying to steady her voice.
"Hey," she said, fighting to keep her voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside her.
"Hello." His reply was measured, the calmness barely masking an edge of wariness. "I've done some digging," he continued, a hint of reluctance coloring his words. "It's... complicated. Whoever is behind this has buried their tracks well. It's not easy to untangle."
She took a breath, the weight of what she was about to hear settling on her shoulders. "But you found something?" she pressed, her voice firmer than she felt. "I need to know everything. No matter what."
A pause stretched, his hesitation palpable. "You're certain?" he asked quietly.
"Yeah," she replied, her tone firm, masking the unease brewing inside her. "How much more time will it take?"
"I'll get back to you by evening," he said, his voice steady but carrying a hint of hesitation.
"Okay," she replied, then ended the call, placing the phone back on her desk. The silence that followed felt heavier now, the weight of what was to come settling over her like a cloud.
She glanced at her laptop screen, realizing the article she had started was still far from complete. The deadline loomed—midnight, and the clock was ticking. The stress of unfinished work and the pressure of time began to consume her, gnawing at the edges of her concentration.
Needing a distraction from the suffocating work stress, she turned her focus to the side research she'd been conducting on The Guardian's Reckoning case. A case that had baffled everyone. She'd already reached out to an IT expert about the technological side, hoping for any lead on this elusive killer. The Guardian's Reckoning always slipped through the cracks, evading every investigation. There were vague sketches, fragmented clues, but nothing concrete. How could someone leave no trace, not even in this age of surveillance?
Scrolling through countless articles, theories, and reports, she found herself lost in the maze of information. There was something about this killer that intrigued her—his actions were brutal, yes, but his motives seemed almost... righteous. Like he was correcting wrongs no one else dared to confront. She could understand that, maybe even sympathize, despite the horrific means.
Just as she sank deeper into the case, a familiar voice pulled her back to reality. An office worker stood beside her cubicle, reminding her she was still very much here.
"Boss called you in," he said, snapping her out of her thoughts.
Natalia took a deep breath, trying to shake off the mental fog of the case and relax. Standing up, she headed toward the office. As soon as she stepped in, her boss was already at his desk, gesturing for her to take a seat. She nodded and quietly sat down, her mind still buzzing with thoughts.
"You called me?" she asked, trying to keep her tone neutral.
"Yeah," he replied, leaning back in his chair, "how's your work going on the AI Deep Fake case?" His eyes studied her closely, clearly expecting a thorough answer.
She shifted in her seat, feeling the weight of both the question and the case. "It's coming along," she began, "but it's tricky. The tech involved is advanced, and piecing together the trail has been slower than I hoped. However, I've been working with a forensic cybersecurity expert who's digging into the details, and we should have more information by the evening."
"Yeah, about that," he continued, his tone firm. "Natalia, you know you have until midnight to complete the article and report. I hope you won't pull a stunt like last time."
"I'm really sorry about that, sir. I promise it won't happen again," she said, guilt washing over her.
He raised an eyebrow, clearly assessing her sincerity. "So, what's your new lead?"
She drew a deep breath, trying to steady her thoughts. "The cybersecurity expert I consulted recommended tracing the digital trail, though he cautioned it wouldn't be easy. Even so, it could lead us to whoever's responsible."
"Alright, then. You'd better get it sorted before midnight," he replied, nodding.
"Absolutely, sir," she said, rising from her chair. She took her leave from his office, the urgency of the deadline weighing heavily on her mind.
As dusk crept in, her phone vibrated, jolting her from her concentration. She glanced at the screen—a message from an unfamiliar number. Her pulse quickened as she opened it. The content revealed transaction records and snippets of communication logs. It didn't expose the user's identity, but it was a significant step forward—a glimmer of a breakthrough she hadn't expected.
But just as she began to process the information, another message pinged her phone. "It's your Husband," it read. Her breath caught in her throat. Bradon?
She stared at the message, frozen in disbelief as the weight of its contents sank in. Before she could process it further, the message vanished—deleted by the sender. The sudden loss left a gnawing unease in her chest.
Thoughts raced through her mind—his recent behavior, the way he had grown distant, how he would often remain tight-lipped whenever she inquired about his work. No, it couldn't be him.
She couldn't stay here any longer; she needed to confront him. Grabbing her phone, she quickly booked a cab.
She arrived home, her heart racing uncontrollably. With shaky hands, she unlocked the door. As it swung open, she was greeted by an unexpected sight—their living room bathed in a soft, romantic glow. The dim lighting, the flicker of candles, and the delicate scent of roses filled the air. Instead of comfort, an icy fear gripped her.
Slowly, she forced her feet to move, searching for Brandon. As she reached the kitchen, she saw him—cooking, his back turned toward her. Cooking had always been one of his best traits, something that made him seem so genuine, so... good.
He looked breathtaking, almost otherworldly in the soft light, and for a moment, she hesitated. Why did she need to confront him?
Her heart whispered silent promises. I will save you, Brandon. I'll save us. I just need to believe in you…