Chapter 4 Silent threat

The still quiet evening stretched until ten o'clock, as Izalea tucked up on her couch, covered comfortably under a duvet, the soft illumination of the TV casting flickering shadows across her face. A bowl of mildly salted popcorn sat on the coffee table in front of her, and she grabbed another mouthful, her fingers crunching into the airy kernels as she munched.

An unexpected knock on the door interrupted the silence. She blinked, surprised, and laid the bowl back on the table before slowly pushing the duvet aside.

...

Standing lazily, I wandered to the surveillance screen; there was Belle and Leonard, and I felt a thrill of surprise; their arrival at this hour was unusual.

An influx of light from the hallway caused me to squint as I opened the door, momentarily blinding me. With a worried expression on his face, Leonard stood there, and Belle hovered right behind him, clutching a bundle of mail to her chest like a lifeline.

I froze for a second. Since the scandal surfaced, I hadn't opened the door for days. And I was now on the brink of something more sinister.

Leonard said, "We thought we'd come check on you. Since everything arose, you have not made an appearance at the agency."

Belle gave a nod of assent. "Yes, it has been a busy day, but we wanted to check in on you."

I moved to make room for them. Belle scowled as she looked around the dim room.

"Did you somehow kidnap yourself or what? Why are you locking yourself in the dark?" she said, with concern.

I hurried to switch on the lights, casting a cozy warmth across the room.

Belle said, "Hey," her gaze now focused on me. "Are you okay?"

I waved away the worry with a gentle smile. "I was just relaxing; I'm fine."

Belle approached me and held out a stack of mail. "This came in for you. We found it on your doorstep."

I took the envelope from her silently and nodded. Both of them kept a careful eye on me. I could feel their eyes on my back as I walked to the kitchen table, and shuffled through the letters absently. One letter, however, caught my attention; it stood out; a thick, unlabelled envelope that felt heavy in my hands.

An unexplainable feeling of fear crept in, and my heart rate increased. My fingers shaking, I ripped the envelope open and unfolded the note.

There it was, staring back at me, in icy, impersonal words:

*Jazlyn, we're aware of your mother...

I felt my heart skip a beat. Jazlyn? I repeated in silence. Even though I knew my true name had been exposed, it was still unsettling to see it here. This person was trying to show me how well they knew my secrets.

I continued reading with my hands trembling.

*...You'll do as we say if you want her identity to stay a secret. Otherwise, her identity and where she's been hiding will be revealed to the world.*

The note felt like a hit to the gut. But the photo inside the note was what broke me.

With unsteady hands, I squeezed it out. It was recent; my mother strolled along the garden path outside her house, captured in a candid moment. She looked peaceful, totally oblivious to knowing that she had been watched and that her life was captured in a picture that was now being used against me.

My chest tightened, and I reflexively pressed the photo and letter against my chest, hoping to contain everything so it wouldn't leak out. The air in the room suddenly felt heavy, suffocating. I was unable to say a word.

"Ms. Izalea?" Belle broke the silence with her voice. "What is it? What's wrong?"

I shook my head, unable to find any words. I could not let them see this. I couldn't involve anyone. My mother had lived her life in the shadows, away from the spotlight. Nobody knew her. And now someone had found her.

Leonard stepped forward, his brow furrowed in concern. "Ms. Izalea, talk to us. What's going on?"

But I was paralyzed and unable to speak. The fear was too raw and close. I'd spent years meticulously crafting my public life to protect my private one. My mother had lived in seclusion. All of that had come crashing down with a single photograph and note.

I kept my eyes down, feeling their stares but refusing to meet them. I could feel the tension rising, the silence deepening as they waited for an explanation that would never come.

"Ms. Izalea, please..." Belle's voice became lower, pleading.

I stood abruptly, clutching the envelope firmly in my hands. "I... I need a moment." My voice was shaky and barely above a whisper.

My initial inclination was to phone my mother. Without saying anything further, I turned and left them standing in the living room, their anxiety lingering in the air as I made my way down the hall to my bedroom, each step seeming slow and heavy.

I grabbed my phone and called her repeatedly, but each time it went to voicemail. I left a message, trying to keep a steady voice.

"Mum, please call me when you get this."

However, it was insufficient to calm my anxiety. She is all I have, and I was overcome with fear. Desperate, I called my private driver, Dominique; one of the few people I fully trusted.

Only once did it ring before he answered, his voice sleepy yet alert. "Miss Benson?" he enquired in an instantly formal tone.

Dominique," I whispered. "I need you. Now." My voice was low but urgent.

He didn't ask why. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

I ended the call and pushed myself to move. I went straight to my walk-in closet. The room was still, dimly lit by the soft glow of the closet lights. I took time to run my fingertips through the rows of clothing.

'It has to be something simple and unobtrusive.'

I whispered to myself before picking a basic black jumper and a pair of jeans.

I changed quickly, moving hurriedly yet deliberately, trying to keep my mind on the task at hand rather than the panic that was sneaking up on me.

My mind was racing once I got dressed, but one thing was certain:

I needed to get to my mother before they did.

Taking a deep breath, I closed the closet door and grabbed a small duffel bag, loading it with a few items. I couldn't waste time. I tossed the bag over my shoulder and returned to the living room, where Leonard and Belle were still waiting, their expressions filled with worry.

"Where are you heading?" When Belle noticed the bag, she stood up and asked.

"I have somewhere to go. I will return shortly. I spoke in a distant, clipped voice. I couldn't afford to discuss it with them, but I didn't want to keep them in the dark.

Though he knew better than to push, Leonard appeared to want to dispute. "At least allow us to go with you."

"No." I shook my head resolutely. "This is something I need to handle alone."

Without waiting for further questions, I turned and walked out the door, the photo and note still burning a hole in my chest.

Dominique was already waiting as I walked outside, my black Audi A8 idling in the darkness.

I slid into the rear seat as he silently opened the door for me. Still reeling from the note, I looked out the window as the car backed away from the building.

Whoever sent it was not playing games. They wanted something from me and were willing to risk my mother's life to get it.

I could not let that happen.