“Don’t tell your husband you’ve found the second key.”Adrian’s words made my fingers tighten around the hotel key card.
Daniel was still on the phone, waiting for me to answer, and for one terrible moment, I couldn’t decide which man frightened me more.“Claire?” Daniel said. “Are you still there?”I looked at Adrian.
He placed one finger against his lips.“Yes,” I whispered. “I’m here.”“Did you find what I left inside the envelope?”I swallowed. “I found the note.”“That isn’t what I asked.”My heart began pounding.Before I could respond, Adrian reached for a hotel notepad and wrote something across the top.HE CAN HEAR EVERYTHING.I stared at the words.Then I looked at the phone pressed against my ear.“Daniel,” I said carefully, “why did you come to this hotel last night?”There was a long silence.“Because you called me.”I nearly dropped the phone.“I called you?”“At 11:32.
You were crying.
You said you didn’t know where you were, and you begged me to come get you.”I pressed my free hand against my forehead, searching desperately for even a fragment of that memory.There was nothing.“Then why didn’t you take me home?”“Because when I arrived, you weren’t alone.”I glanced toward Adrian.He wasn’t smiling anymore.“Was I with him?”“Yes.”“Did you see something happen between us?”Another silence.“Claire, I need you to listen to me.
Whatever Adrian tells you, don’t assume he’s telling you the truth.”Adrian shook his head slowly.Then he wrote another sentence.ASK HIM ABOUT THE CAMERA.I took a shaky breath.“Daniel, did you get the security recording?”His breathing changed.“How do you know about that?”“Adrian told me.”“Of course he did.”“What does that mean?”“Claire, there’s something you need to understand about the man standing in front of you.”Adrian suddenly reached toward my phone.I stepped backward.“Don’t,” I warned him.He stopped immediately, raising both hands.“I’m not trying to hurt you.”“Then stop telling me what to do!”Daniel heard me.“Claire?
What’s happening?”“Nothing,” I lied. “I’m leaving.”“Wait.
Don’t use the elevator.”I froze.“Why?”“Because someone is waiting downstairs.”The line went dead.For several seconds, I stood motionless, staring at the disconnected call.Adrian watched me from across the room.“What did he say?”I looked toward the door.“He said someone is waiting downstairs.”Adrian closed his eyes.“Then we’re running out of time.”I was twenty-nine years old, married for nine years, and standing inside a Chicago hotel room with a man I didn’t remember spending the night with.My husband had apparently visited the room while I was unconscious or confused, my best friend knew far more than she admitted, and a key to another room had somehow appeared inside an envelope written in Daniel’s handwriting.Every answer created another question.And the worst part was that I no longer knew which question I should ask first.“Tell me what happened last night,” I said.Adrian glanced toward the camera above the doorway.“Not here.”“I’m not going anywhere until you explain.”“Then at least let me show you something.”He picked up his phone and opened a video.The screen showed the nightclub.I recognized the mirrored walls, the blue lights over the bar, and the bartender who had served me before Adrian appeared.The timestamp in the corner read 10:18 p.m.I watched myself sitting at the counter, looking down at my phone.Then a woman approached from behind.Melissa.My stomach dropped.“She was there?”Adrian nodded.I watched Melissa touch my shoulder and lean close to my ear.Whatever she said made me turn sharply toward her.We appeared to argue.Then Melissa pointed toward the entrance.A tall man in a dark coat stepped into the frame.Daniel.“No,” I whispered.The video continued.Daniel approached our table, said something to Melissa, and looked directly toward the camera.Then the recording stopped.“What happened next?” I demanded.Adrian lowered his phone.“That’s the part your husband doesn’t want you to see.”I stared at him.“How do you have this recording?”“Because I was hired to be there.”The words seemed to hang between us.“Hired?”“Yes.”“By whom?”He hesitated.That hesitation told me more than I wanted to know.“Melissa?” I asked.Adrian looked away.I felt something cold settle in my chest.“You weren’t some random stranger who happened to meet me at the bar.”“No.”“You knew who I was.”“Yes.”“Before you even spoke to me?”“Yes.”I backed toward the bathroom.“Did you put something in my drink?”His expression tightened.“No.
I didn’t.”“Then why can’t I remember anything?”“I don’t know exactly what caused your memory loss.
That’s one