The Secret Between Us

The rain had been falling since sunset.

Amara Vale watched it through the taxi window as the city blurred into streaks of gold, red, and white. Streetlights reflected against the wet glass, making everything outside look like a dream she wasn’t sure she wanted to wake from.

She tightened her fingers around the small silver necklace hanging from her neck.

Three years.

Three years since she had left everything behind.

Three years since she had promised herself she would never return.

And now she was starting over.

Again.

The taxi slowed as they approached a massive black gate surrounded by tall stone walls.

Amara looked down at the address on her phone.

“This is it.”

The driver glanced at the building.

“You sure?”

She frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He shrugged. “Nothing. Just… this place is expensive.”

Amara almost laughed.

Expensive was an understatement.

The apartment complex looked more like a private estate than somewhere ordinary people lived. Modern buildings rose behind the gates, their windows glowing warmly against the dark sky.

She had spent almost everything she had saved to secure the apartment.

It was worth it.

She needed somewhere nobody knew her.

Somewhere she could become someone else.

The taxi stopped.

Amara paid the driver and stepped outside.

Cold rain immediately touched her face.

She pulled her jacket tighter around herself and looked toward the entrance.

For the first time in years, she allowed herself to breathe.

“No more running,” she whispered.

She picked up her suitcase.

“No more secrets.”

A black car suddenly appeared at the end of the driveway.

Amara stopped.

The car moved slowly through the rain before stopping several feet behind her.

She watched as the driver’s door opened.

A man stepped out.

Tall.

Dark-haired.

Dressed in a black coat that looked completely untouched by the rain.

He closed the door and stood there.

Watching her.

Something about him made Amara uncomfortable.

She looked away.

Maybe he was just another resident.

She turned toward the entrance.

“Amara?”

Her entire body froze.

The voice had been calm.

Almost too calm.

Slowly, she turned around.

The man was looking directly at her.

Her heart began pounding.

“How do you know my name?”

He didn’t answer.

Instead, his eyes dropped to the silver necklace around her neck.

For a moment, something flashed across his face.

Recognition.

Fear.

Then it disappeared.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said.

Amara stared at him.

“Excuse me?”

He took one step closer.

“I said you shouldn’t be here.”

She tightened her grip on her suitcase.

“And who exactly are you?”

He hesitated.

“Damon.”

“Damon what?”

“Cross.”

The name meant nothing to her.

At least, she thought it didn’t.

Damon looked past her toward the apartment building.

“Go inside.”

Amara frowned.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

His expression hardened.

“You don’t understand.”

“Then explain.”

He said nothing.

Rain continued falling between them.

Finally, Damon looked directly into her eyes.

“Leave this place before midnight.”

Amara’s stomach tightened.

“Why?”

He stepped closer.

“Because if they realize you’re here, you won’t get another chance to disappear.”

Her blood ran cold.

“What are you talking about?”

But Damon had already turned away.

He walked back toward his car.

Amara watched him disappear into the darkness.

She stood there for several seconds, unable to move.

Then she looked down at the necklace around her neck.

The silver pendant suddenly felt heavier than it had a moment ago.

She had owned it since she was seventeen.

She had never told anyone about it.

Nobody.

Not even her closest friend.

So how had Damon recognized it?

Amara slowly picked up her suitcase and walked toward the building.

She told herself she was imagining things.

That the strange man was simply trying to frighten her.

That her new life was still possible.

But when she reached her apartment door, she stopped.

Something had been slipped underneath it.

A photograph.

Her hands trembled as she picked it up.

It was old.

Faded.

The picture showed three people standing outside a house.

A younger woman.

A young man.

And a little girl.

Amara stared at the little girl.

She knew that face.

It was hers.

But there was something else.

Written across the back of the photograph were six words:

YOU WERE NEVER SUPPOSED TO SURVIVE.

Amara’s breath caught.

Behind her, somewhere in the dark hallway, a floorboard creaked.

She turned.

Nobody was there.

Then her phone vibrated.

Unknown number.

One message.

Run, Amara. Damon Cross can’t protect you forever.