Elara stared at the deep crimson envelope lying on her desk. The second letter. Her hands trembled, but she forced herself to open it. The scent of old paper and ink wafted through the air, dragging her back to a memory she thought she had buried for good.
"To Elara, the girl who once cried under the pouring rain..."
Her eyes widened. Only one person knew about that moment—someone who shouldn't be able to write this. Her heartbeat quickened.
The letter spoke of an event five years ago, when Elara had knelt at her father's grave, drenched in rain, her tears blending with the storm. That day, she had felt like the loneliest soul in the world. But apparently, someone had been watching from afar. Someone who was now sending her this letter.
"I saw you that day, and I knew... you were strong, but you've always hidden your wounds too well. You are not alone, Elara. But now, you must realize—your past will never let you rest in peace."
The signature was the same as the first—a bold "R" in thick black ink. But this time, there was an extra line:
"The third letter lies where you buried your deepest secret."
Elara's breath caught in her throat. Her deepest secret. That place...
"I have to go back," she whispered, "to the house I swore I'd never return to."
The chain of fate was pulling her deeper now. And Elara knew, this was no longer just about finding the sender. This was about confronting every scar she had hidden beneath her smile.
Elara stared at the deep crimson envelope lying on her desk. The second letter. Her hands trembled, but she forced herself to open it. The scent of old paper and ink wafted through the air, dragging her back to a memory she thought she had buried for good.
"To Elara, the girl who once cried under the pouring rain..."
Her eyes widened. Only one person knew about that moment—someone who shouldn't be able to write this. Her heartbeat quickened.
The letter spoke of an event five years ago, when Elara had knelt at her father's grave, drenched in rain, her tears blending with the storm. That day, she had felt like the loneliest soul in the world. But apparently, someone had been watching from afar. Someone who was now sending her this letter.
"I saw you that day, and I knew... you were strong, but you've always hidden your wounds too well. You are not alone, Elara. But now, you must realize—your past will never let you rest in peace."
The signature was the same as the first—a bold "R" in thick black ink. But this time, there was an extra line:
"The third letter lies where you buried your deepest secret."
Below that sentence, a strange sequence was written in red ink:
IX – X – 19: E=5, A=1
Elara's heart pounded. It was clearly a code—but what did it mean?
She read it again. Roman numerals? IX and X… 9 and 10… then 19. And what about the letters? A substitution code?
Her mind raced. "E equals 5… A equals 1… Is it trying to tell me something about numbers and letters?"
She stood up, the letter still in her hand. "This isn't just a location. It's a message. And whoever 'R' is—they know exactly how to make me come looking."
For the first time since receiving the first letter, fear began to seep through her walls. Not just fear of the unknown, but fear of what she would remember when she finally solved the riddle.
Elara couldn't sit still. She grabbed a pen and scribbled the code onto a fresh page in her notebook:
IX – X – 19: E=5, A=1
"Roman numerals... 9, 10, 19," she murmured. "Are they dates? Coordinates? A cipher?"
She flipped through the pages until she found her old journal—one she hadn't opened since the funeral. Inside were memories she had hoped to forget, but now, she searched them desperately, looking for a pattern, a hint, anything that could connect the numbers.
Then it clicked.
The numbers could be letters. If A equals 1, then:
I (9) = I
X (10) = J
19 = S
I–J–S.
"Elara," she whispered to herself, "what does IJS mean?"
She stared at the initials. Were they someone's name? A location? An abbreviation?
She flipped back to the letter, eyes scanning every inch again—and there it was. A watermark. Barely visible, but there. When she tilted the paper against the desk lamp, faint letters shimmered on the bottom right corner: "J.S. Library"
Her breath caught.
J.S. Library.
A place long abandoned, standing on the outskirts of town. The old Jenkins-Selwin Library had been closed for years after a fire destroyed most of its west wing. No one went there anymore.
Except Elara.
She remembered. It was the place she went to hide. The place where she once sealed away a truth she never dared tell anyone. A box she buried beneath the broken floorboards in the restricted section. Her "deepest secret."
The meaning of the code was clear now. Someone knew about the library. Someone had been there—or worse, someone had found what she buried.
"No one should've known," she whispered, her voice cracking.
The shadows in her room seemed to deepen. Her gaze shifted to the window. A movement caught her eye.
Someone was watching.
A figure. Tall. Still. Standing across the street, half-hidden by a dying oak tree. The second their eyes met, the figure turned and vanished into the darkness.
Elara's heart thudded violently in her chest.
She wasn't just following letters anymore.
She was being followed.
Elara steadied herself, taking a deep breath. There was no turning back now. If she wanted the truth, she would have to face her fears—even the ones buried deep in her past.
She folded the second letter carefully and tucked it into her jacket. Her footsteps echoed softly as she approached the door, fingers brushing against the handle that felt colder than usual. The night wasn't just dark—it was full of secrets.
One thing was clear in her mind:
The third letter was waiting.
And she had to find it… before someone else did.