THE FIRST MESSAGE

"What’s wrong?" Sam jolted me out of my reverie with his voice.

"Nothing," I pretended while glancing at my phone.

"Evelyn, I am aware when something is causing you distress," she remarked, folding her arms. "You’ve been staring at your phone all day."

Sensing the weight of the message, I sighed. "Jack messaged me."

Sam's gaze expanded. "Jack? What was his desire?"

"He claimed to be aware of Nathaniel and myself. that he is all-knowing."

Sam scowled and leaned forward. How was he able to know? You haven’t told anyone, right?"

"No, of course not," I curtly said. "But he knows, in some way. I'm afraid, too."

"What did he say exactly?" With concern in her voice, Sam pressed.

I gave her my phone so she could see the message. After a minute, she glanced up at me from her spot on the screen.

Softly, "This is bad, Evelyn," she whispered. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm not sure," I said. "If Jack really knows, he could ruin everything."

Sam took a seat next me, her expression solemn. "You should speak with Nathaniel. He must be aware."

I shook my head, saying, "I can't." "Not just yet. I have no idea how to even begin to convey this to him."

Sam gave me a long look before letting out a sigh. "You're facing difficulties. But Evelyn, you cannot overlook this. Jack will not disappear.

I was sitting by myself in my tiny flat later that night. I could not get Jack's message out of my head. He has a whole knowledge base.

Once more, my phone buzzed. With haste, I seized it, praying it wasn't Jack once more. However, it wasn't him. Nathaniel was the one.

His text said, "Dinner tomorrow?"

I was at a loss for words as I looked at the message for a while. I didn't want to bring it up right now, but I also couldn't keep keeping this from him. Not quite yet.

"Sure," I said, typing with slightly trembling fingers.

I met Nathaniel at his apartment the next day. Grinning, he opened the door.

"Please enter," he responded, moving aside.

As I entered, I could sense the atmosphere's well-known tension. Between the two of us, it was always uneasy and uncertain. We were still finding each other out.

Nathaniel remarked, "I made pasta," and he led me over to the dining table. "I’m not much of a cook, but I tried."

I tried to relax and smiled. "I’m sure it’s great."

We took a seat and ate in solitude for a bit. Although the food was tasty, I wasn't paying attention to it. My thoughts were consumed with Jack's message.

Breaking the stillness, Nathaniel blurted abruptly, "You seem distracted."

I gasped as I glanced up. "No, I'm not," I said a fib.

His eyebrow went up. "You don’t seem fine."

I inhaled deeply, attempting to quiet my rushing mind. "It’s just… there’s something I need to tell you."

With his gaze fixed on me, Nathaniel reclined in his chair. "What is it?"

The words hung in my throat as I paused. In what way may I interpret this?

"A message was sent to me," I eventually said. "They know about our deal."

I could see the stress in Nathaniel's eyes even though his demeanor remained unchanged. "Who?"

I spoke carefully, not wanting to mention Jack's name just yet, "an old... friend." "They’re threatening to expose everything."

After a little period of silence, Nathaniel remarked quietly. "This is something we can manage. "I'll handle it if they try to cause trouble."

"But what if they go to the press?" I questioned, worry rising in my voice.

Leaning forward, Nathaniel maintained a steady look. "They refuse to. Believe me."

Even though I wanted to believe him, I couldn't shake my worry. "Nathaniel, I have no idea. This may really wreck things."

"It won't," he asserted. "I’ve dealt with people like this before."

We sat on the couch after supper, our tensions still very much present. I tried to relax by leaning back, but the anxiousness persisted.

Nathaniel questioned abruptly, "Who is this person?"

I stiffened. "Just a former acquaintance of mine. It's not simple."

Nathaniel kept a close eye on me. "Complicated how?"

I was unsure of how much to share, so I paused. "Our past exists. But that's now behind us. They are only attempting to create issues."

Although Nathaniel didn't ask any more questions, I could sense he wasn't happy with my response. Tell me if they continue to trouble you. I’ll make sure they stop."

I said, "I will," even though I wasn't sure how I would follow through on it.

I discovered a note on my porch the next morning. Not a return address, not a name. As I lifted it up, my heart was racing because I knew what was inside.

Slowly, with trembling hands, I opened it. There was a plain message with the precise, deliberate handwriting, "You can't trust him," inside.

I gazed at the message, my thoughts racing. Who had abandoned this? And about whom were they speaking? Nathaniel? or Jack?

I met Sam at the café near my flat later that day. With my words barely audible above a whisper, I slipped the note over the table to her.

"I found this on my doorstep this morning."

Sam took up the message and carefully read it. With her eyes wide with concern, she questioned, "Who could have left this?"

I shook my head and answered, "I don't know." But Sam, it scares me. I sense that someone is observing me."

Sam lowered her voice as she moved in closer. "Do you think it’s Jack?"

I gave a headshake. "I'm not sure. It may be. However, it may be another person."

Sam returned the note to me with a grimace. Evelyn, you have to use caution. Things are becoming serious here."

I said, "I know," as a shiver went down my spine.

I sat in my apartment that night and stared over the note once more. The statements made me feel doubtful and mocking. He cannot be trusted.

Was Nathaniel being discussed? Was there a warning intended for me? Or was this simply another mental trick meant to confuse me?

My phone started buzzing once again, jolting me out of my reverie. Half-expecting another message from Jack, I snatched it. However, it wasn't him. It was yet another unidentified number.

The warning said, "You're in over your head."

I gazed at the display, my heart pounding. One more caution. One more message from a knowledgeable person than me.

It was more than I could handle. I required clarification. Whoever was sending these communications had to be known to me. And before it was too late, I had to find out.

There was a second knock on the door as I put the phone down. My chest seized up with my heart. I had no expectation of anyone. I approached the door gingerly, reaching for the doorknob with shaky hands.

This time, who was it?