Chapter 7 Seven

Eve's POV

The next day, I woke up with a clear purpose. My mind was set on one thing: finding out more about Jake. The unease from the night before hadn't left me, and I knew I couldn't rest until I got some answers.

Samantha was already up, getting ready for work. "You're up early," she said, glancing at me as she buttoned her blouse.

"Yeah, I couldn't sleep much," I admitted, grabbing a piece of toast from the kitchen counter. "I'm going back to the community center today."

Samantha raised an eyebrow. "To talk to Jake again?"

"Not just to talk," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "I want to learn more about him. Something about our conversation yesterday didn't sit right with me. I need to figure out if he's hiding something."

Samantha paused, considering my words. "Okay, but be careful, Eve. If he's hiding something, he might not like you digging around."

"I know," I replied. "But I can't just ignore this. I'll be cautious, I promise."

Samantha sighed, giving me a supportive smile. "Just keep your phone on you and call me if anything seems off."

"Will do," I promised, feeling a little more at ease knowing she was looking out for me.

After Samantha left for work, I quickly got dressed and headed out. The walk to the community center felt longer than usual, my mind racing with all the possible scenarios I might face.

When I arrived, the center was bustling with activity. People were setting up for the day, and the familiar sounds of chatter and laughter filled the air. But my focus was solely on finding out more about Jake.

I spotted Mrs. Turner, one of the older volunteers, sorting through some supplies near the back of the room. She'd been at the center for years and knew everyone. If anyone could give me some background on Jake, it would be her.

"Morning, Mrs. Turner," I greeted her with a smile.

"Morning, dear," she replied, her wrinkled face lighting up as she saw me. "What brings you here so early?"

"I wanted to help out a bit before the rush," I said, picking up a stack of papers to organize. "And maybe chat with you while we work."

Mrs. Turner chuckled. "Always the helpful one. What do you want to chat about?"

"Well, I've been thinking about Jake," I started, trying to keep my tone light. "He's been really involved here, but I realized I don't know much about him. How long has he been volunteering?"

Mrs. Turner's hands paused for a moment, then she resumed sorting. "Jake? He's been here about six months, I think. Came out of nowhere one day, but he's been a good help around here."

"Six months, huh?" I repeated, trying to sound casual. "What did he do before coming here?"

She looked at me curiously, sensing my interest. "I'm not sure, dear. He doesn't talk much about his past. But he's always been polite and hardworking."

I nodded, filing away the information. "Has he ever mentioned where he's from?"

"Not really," Mrs. Turner replied, a hint of suspicion creeping into her voice. "But he's a private man. Some people just don't like to share too much, you know?"

"Yeah, I get that," I said, not wanting to raise any more suspicion. "I was just curious."

We still continued working, I kept thinking about what Mrs. Turner said. Six months wasn't a long time, but in a place like this, people usually got to know each other pretty well. The fact that Jake hadn't shared much about his past made me even more suspicious.

I decided to take a different approach. If Jake wasn't going to give me information directly, maybe I could find something in his work at the center. After Mrs. Turner went off to help in another area, I started looking around for anything that might give me a clue about Jake.

I noticed a clipboard on the main desk, listing the volunteers' shifts. Jake's name was there, along with his contact information. My eyes scanned the list until I found what I was looking for: his address.

It was a long shot, but maybe visiting his place could give me some answers. Before I could talk myself out of it, I quickly jotted down the address. I knew it wasn't exactly ethical, but I was desperate for answers.

I left the community center, my heart pounding with anticipation. Jake lived in a part of town I wasn't familiar with, so I called a cab and gave the driver the address.

The drive was quiet, my mind racing with possibilities. What if Jake wasn't who he said he was? What if I was walking into something dangerous? But I pushed those thoughts aside, reminding myself that I needed to know the truth.

When the cab pulled up in front of the building, I felt a chill run down my spine. The place was an old, rundown apartment complex, nothing like I expected. It was the kind of place you wouldn't want to be after dark.

"Here we are," the cab driver said, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Thanks," I muttered, paying him and stepping out of the car.

I hesitated for a moment, staring up at the building. My instincts were screaming at me to leave, but I couldn't. I had to see this through. Taking a deep breath, I walked up to the entrance.

The lobby was dimly lit, with peeling wallpaper and a faint smell of mold. I checked the list of names by the mailboxes, finding Jake's apartment number on the third floor.

I climbed the creaky stairs, I tried to keep my nerves in check. What was I expecting to find? Jake's secret life, hidden behind a door? I wasn't sure, but I had to know.

When I reached his floor, I paused outside his door. The number was barely hanging on, and the door itself looked like it had seen better days. I raised my hand to knock but stopped myself. What if he was inside? What would I say?

Before I could decide, the door suddenly swung open. I jumped back, my heart nearly stopping.

But it wasn't Jake. It was a woman, mid-thirties, with disheveled hair and a weary expression. She looked at me with confusion, as if I was the last person she expected to see.

"Can I help you?" she asked, her voice hoarse.

"I-I'm sorry," I stammered, caught off guard. "I was looking for Jake. Does he live here?"

The woman's expression was too cold "Jake? No, he doesn't live here anymore."

"What do you mean?" I asked, my confusion growing. "He's been volunteering at the community center. I thought this was his address."

She shook her head, looking both frustrated and tired. "Jake used to live here, but he moved out months ago. I don't know where he is now."

"Do you know why he left?" I pressed, feeling curious

The woman hesitated, glancing around as if afraid someone might overhear. "Look, I don't know what you want with Jake, but if I were you, I'd stay away. He's trouble, and nothing good ever comes from getting involved with him."

Her words sent a shiver down my spine. "What kind of trouble?"

She sighed, rubbing her temples as if the conversation was giving her a headache. "Let's just say he's not who he pretends to be. He's done things-things that make people disappear."

My mind immediately starts beating fast, "Disappear? What do you mean?"

"I've said too much already," the woman said, backing away into her apartment. "Just stay away from him. Trust me."

Before I could ask anything else, she shut the door in my face, leaving me standing there in stunned silence.

I slowly made my way back down the stairs, my thoughts in a whirl. What had I gotten myself into? Jake wasn't just a volunteer at the community center-he was something else entirely, something dangerous. And now I was tangled up in whatever it was.