Eleanor stared at the photograph.
Suddenly, she noticed something in the corner.
A small piece of paper resting on the floor.
It contained a handwritten number.
She looked at the evidence bag in Daniel's hand.
The silver key.
Then at the photograph of the warehouse.
Room 317.
The same number appeared everywhere.
"Daniel," she said.
He turned.
"Look at the clock."
Daniel zoomed in again.
The numbers on its face were strange.
The hands weren't pointing to three seventeen.
They were pointing toward the number seven.
And the small label beneath the clock read:
HAYES STORAGE β UNIT 317.
Daniel immediately understood.
The photograph had not been taken at the railway station.
It had been taken inside a storage facility.
The same facility where the mysterious wooden box had been discovered.
Eleanor took a step forward.
"Then he's there."
Daniel looked at Marcus.
"Get the address."
Marcus pulled out his phone.
But before he could finish, every light in the warehouse went out.
A loud metallic crash echoed through the corridor.
Daniel grabbed Eleanor's arm.
"Down!"
A gunshot exploded in the darkness.
The sound was followed by the shattering of glass.
Someone screamed.
Daniel pushed Eleanor behind the desk and reached for his radio.
"All units, emergency! Shots fired at the warehouse! We need immediate backup!"
There was static.
Then a voice answered.
Not the dispatcher.
Not Marcus.
A voice Eleanor had not heard in twelve years.
"Hello, Ellie."
She stopped breathing.
The voice came from somewhere beyond the doorway.
Soft.
Familiar.
Almost gentle.
"Did you really think I would let you find me this easily?"
Eleanor's eyes filled with tears.
"Michael?"
There was a pause.
Then the voice answered.
"Come home, sweetheart."
Daniel turned toward her.
His face was filled with disbelief.
But Eleanor was no longer looking at him.
She was staring into the darkness.
Because somewhere beyond that door, the man she had mourned for twelve years was calling her by the name only he had ever used.
And she had no idea whether he was coming to save her...
Or whether he had finally come to finish what he started.
CHAPTER 9: THE VOICE IN THE DARK
The gunshot echoed through the warehouse.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Eleanor remained crouched behind the desk, her hands covering her ears. Daniel held his weapon in front of him, trying to identify the direction of the shot.
Marcus was nowhere to be seen.
"Marcus!" Daniel shouted.
No answer.
Then the voice came again.
"Ellie?"
Eleanor's heart pounded.
It was the same voice she had heard in her dreams for twelve years.
The same gentle voice that used to whisper goodnight when she couldn't sleep.
The same voice that had once promised her that no matter what happened, they would face everything together.
"Michael?" she whispered.
A figure appeared at the end of the corridor.
He was standing beneath a broken ceiling light.
His face was older, his clothes worn, and his posture slightly bent. A scar ran from his left cheek toward his jaw.
But his eyes were unmistakable.
It was Michael Hayes.
Eleanor slowly stood up.
For a moment, she forgot about the gunshots, the warehouse, and the investigation.
She saw only the man she had loved.
"Michael..."
He took one step toward her.
"Don't move."
Daniel raised his weapon.
Michael stopped.
"Please," Eleanor said. "He's my husband."
Daniel didn't lower his gun.
"That's exactly why I need you to stay behind me."
Michael looked at Daniel.
"You must be Detective Reeves."
"How do you know my name?"
"Because I've been watching your investigation."
Daniel's expression hardened.
"Then you know you're going to answer a lot of questions."
Michael nodded.
"I know."
Eleanor stepped around the desk.
"Why?"
Michael looked at her.
"Ellie, I can explain."
"Why did you leave me?"
He opened his mouth, but no words came out.
"Do you have any idea what those twelve years were like?"
Her voice began to break.
"I buried you without a body. I visited an empty grave. I woke up every morning wondering whether you were alive somewhere, wondering whether you had forgotten me, wondering whether I had done something wrong."
Michael lowered his head.
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry?"
Eleanor laughed bitterly.
"You don't get to come back after twelve years and say you're sorry."
"I know."
"No, you don't!"
Her tears finally fell.
"You don't know what it feels like to lose someone who isn't actually gone. You don't know what it's like to grieve a person while secretly hoping they're still breathing."
Michael looked at her.
For the first time, his composure collapsed.
"I never stopped loving you."
Eleanor shook her head.
"Then why didn't you come home?"
Before Michael could answer, a loud noise came from the entrance.
Daniel turned immediately.
A group of armed men entered the warehouse.
Their faces were hidden behind dark masks.
"Down!" Daniel shouted.
He pulled Eleanor behind the desk.
Michael grabbed a metal chair and threw it toward the nearest attacker.
A gunshot shattered a window.
Daniel fired toward the entrance, forcing the attackers to take cover.
"Where's the backup?" Eleanor shouted.
"My radio's dead!"
Michael pointed toward a narrow emergency exit.
"That way!"
Daniel hesitated.
"How do you know this building?"
"I built the security system!"