When I peeked through the peephole, I saw my new neighbor—tall, lean, with a friendly smile. I'd seen him a few times in passing, carrying groceries or fiddling with his keys. He always seemed polite enough, but we'd barely exchanged names.
I opened the door a crack. "Hey."
"Hi, Sarah, right?" he said, offering a slight wave. "I'm Daniel—sorry to bother you. I just wanted to let you know I accidentally got some of your mail." He held up two envelopes.
Relief and mild disappointment flooded me. "Oh, thanks," I managed, opening the door wider.
He handed them over. I glanced at the envelopes—just a bank statement and a piece of junk mail. Nothing important. "Thanks, Daniel. I appreciate it."
He lingered a moment, clearing his throat. "Are you, uh, doing okay? You seem… I don't know, a bit stressed."
I stiffened. "I'm fine," I said, too quickly. "Just… long day."
He offered a sympathetic smile. "I get it. If you ever need anything, I'm just next door."
I forced a smile in return. "Thanks, I'll keep that in mind."
He hesitated as if wanting to say more, then nodded and left. As I shut the door, an odd prickle ran down my spine. Something about his presence felt comforting yet strangely deliberate. Was I imagining it? I shook off the thought—I was on edge, and everyone seemed suspicious to me right now.
Still, I couldn't help noticing how he'd called me by name, how he seemed to know exactly what to say. With a soft snort, I reminded myself that normal neighbors might just be kind. Not everything was a conspiracy.
I locked the door and returned to the couch, the code slip burning a metaphorical hole in my pocket. Enough dithering. I dialed Jasmine.
She answered on the second ring. "Sarah? You okay?"
"I need you," I said, voice trembling with a mixture of excitement and fear. "I found something. In Hector's stuff. A code, or something. I—can you come over?"
She didn't hesitate. "Be there in twenty."
---
A Friend's Support
Jasmine arrived faster than I expected, cheeks flushed from climbing the stairs too quickly. She shrugged off her jacket, her eyes scanning my face. "What's going on? You sounded frantic."
Wordlessly, I handed her the slip of paper. She studied it, brows knitting together. "This is definitely some kind of code," she murmured. "Numbers, letters… maybe coordinates? Or a cipher."
I nodded, pacing the living room. "Hector left it hidden behind a photo in a picture frame. He wouldn't do that unless it was important."
Jasmine lowered herself onto the couch, rummaging in her bag for her phone. "I'll try a few things. Sometimes these codes are simple letter substitutions or hex values."
As she tapped away, I sank into the armchair across from her, hugging my knees to my chest. My heart hammered with anticipation. If we cracked this code, maybe it would point us to Hector or prove he was in danger.
Minutes ticked by. Jasmine typed furiously, cross-referencing websites about ciphers and encryption. The tension in the air thickened with each passing second.
"Nothing straightforward," she finally muttered, setting her phone aside. "This might be something more specialized. Could be coordinates, or it could be something that needs a key phrase to decode."
I let out a shaky breath. "We can't just give up. Maybe we need someone with hacking skills, or—"
She raised an eyebrow. "You do realize we can't exactly walk into a police station with this. If Hector was involved in something shady—"
I flinched. "He wasn't shady, Jas. He was… is a good man. Whatever's going on, he stumbled into it or tried to stop it."
Her expression softened. "I know, I'm sorry. It's just… we're in over our heads, Sarah."
"I don't care," I said, voice firm. "I need to find him. Or at least understand what he got caught up in."
She nodded, rubbing her temple. "We'll figure it out. Let me take a picture of this code. I can ask around, discreetly."
I handed it over. She snapped a photo, sending it to her own email with the subject line: "Research."
Steeling Ourselves
We spent the next hour brainstorming. Jasmine suggested we contact a mutual acquaintance who was tech-savvy, but we worried about dragging more people into potential danger. We considered searching for Hector's family—he'd mentioned a younger brother and a distant mother. But we had no idea how to reach them.
Finally, we agreed on a plan: Jasmine would quietly investigate the code with a trusted friend who owed her a favor, someone with enough knowledge to crack it without raising alarms. Meanwhile, I'd keep searching Hector's belongings for more clues.
As we were wrapping up, my phone buzzed. I lunged for it, breath hitching. The caller ID read: Unknown Number. My heart pounded so loudly I thought Jasmine might hear it.
I answered, voice trembling. "Hello?"
A moment of static. Then a click, like someone hanging up. Silence.
I swallowed hard, adrenaline coursing through my veins. "No one there," I murmured, but we exchanged uneasy looks. It felt like a warning, or maybe someone checking if I was home.
Jasmine touched my arm gently. "You're not alone in this, Sarah. We'll figure out the code. We'll find Hector."
I nodded, tears stinging my eyes. "I just… I need to know he's okay."
.
By the time Jasmine left, dusk was settling over the city. I stood by the window, watching the sky turn a deep orange, the last remnants of sunlight fading into night. I clutched the picture frame with the missing photo, running my thumb over the place where the code had been hidden.
Hector, what did you get yourself into?
A noise from the hallway made me jump—just a neighbor opening a door, probably Daniel. My heart pounded anyway. I was wound too tight, every sound a potential threat.
Still, as I gazed at the frame, a new determination solidified. Hector had left me that code. He wanted me to find it. If the men who forced him to disappear thought I'd just accept his goodbye, they were wrong. I'd cling to every scrap of evidence, follow every lead, until I found the truth.
I set the frame aside carefully, as though it were made of something precious. Then I picked up my phone and scrolled through my messages to Hector. A new wave of grief hit me when I realized how many times I'd texted him since that one devastating message. All unanswered.
"Hector, I found something. I know you didn't leave by choice." I typed out the text, my fingers trembling, but I didn't send it. His phone was off, or worse, compromised. I deleted the draft, tears burning my eyes.
I exhaled shakily, turning off the overhead light. The living room dimmed, leaving me in semi-darkness. Outside, the city glowed with artificial lights, but my apartment felt like a cocoon of secrets.
Tomorrow, I'd tear through every box of Hector's belongings, determined to unearth more clues. Jasmine would start her discreet inquiries. The code would be cracked, eventually, revealing the path Hector had tried to hide from me. And I would follow it, no matter the danger.
Because if there was one thing stronger than the fear gripping my heart, it was the love I felt for him—the love that told me Hector would never abandon me without reason. A love that insisted he needed me to fight for him when he couldn't fight for himself.