I found a slip of paper tucked in the drawer of my desk: He knows. Run.
MrsWhitmore, could you check the catalogue cards in the third drawer? It looks like the students have mixed everything up again, said the head librarian, Angela Porter, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. And please, dont stay late tonight. Youve been working too many hours lately.
Right, Angela, Ill get on it, Nina Whitmore replied, barely lifting her eyes from the computer. I just need to finish the electronic inventory of the new arrivals.
Angela shook her head and left the cataloguing department, the click of her heels echoing on the old pine floor. The town library occupied a former grammar school, with lofty ceilings, plaster cornices and floorboards that creaked long before any visitor stepped through the door.
Nina had indeed been staying late for the past three weeks, but not because she was a workaholic. Her flat had been empty since Simon left, taking not only his belongings but also the warmth that had filled their modest flat. Now only the ticking of the ancient mantel clock, a relic from her grandmother, broke the silence.
At the library there was always something to do. Nina loved the scent of books, the rustle of pages, even the dust that settled on the top shelves despite the diligent cleaning of the janitor, Aunt Clara. Here she felt useful and in her element.
Nina, dont forget we have a meeting with the author tomorrow, popped in Emma, the young librarian from the membership desk. We need to set up the small hall and print the posters.
I havent forgotten, Emma, Nina said with a smile. The posters are already in the top drawer of my desk. Grab them yourself; I still have to sort out the catalogue.
Emma nodded and walked over to the sturdy oak desk where Nina worked. She pulled the upper drawer open and took out the folder of posters.
Whats this? she asked, pulling a folded sheet out with the folder.
What? Nina turned to her.
It looks like a note. Must have fallen out of the folder.
Emma handed the crumpled paper to Nina. When Nina unfolded it, three words stared back in a hurried hand: He knows. Run.
Her heart skipped a beat. The first thought was that it was a joke, but deep down she sensed otherwise. She folded the note carefully and slipped it into the pocket of her cardigan.
Probably just some students prank, she said, trying to keep her voice flat. Someone must have dropped it. Theyre always passing notes around here.
Emma shrugged. Fine, Ill hang the posters.
When the door shut behind Emma, Nina pulled the note out again. He knows. Run. Who knew? What did it mean? And who had written it?
The handwriting was familiar, yet Nina couldnt place it. It wasnt any of the colleagues shed seen lately. Could it be Simon? Why would he leave such a warning? Their split had been calm, without drama. He had simply said he no longer felt the same and that they should stay friendsa predictable ending, like a cheap romance novel.
She tried to focus on her work, but the note kept looping in her mind. By the end of the day she finally finished the catalogue, handed the keys to the security guard and stepped out into a damp October evening. A light drizzle fell, and the street lamps glowed like yellow halos in the fog.
It was a fifteenminute walk home. Usually Nina enjoyed the stroll past the old park, through the cosy courtyard with its swing set where children played in the afternoons. Tonight every shadow seemed threatening, every sound made her startle. He knows. Run. Who was she supposed to run from?
She entered the stairwell and breathed a sigh of relief. The hallway was bright and quiet. She climbed to the third floor, unlocked her flat, and was greeted by the usual silence, the faint cinnamon scent from the sachet shed hung by the front door to mask Simons absence.
She slipped off her coat, hung it on the peg, and padded into the kitchen. She turned on the kettle and rummaged out yesterdays leftover salad. She wasnt hungry but needed something to keep her mind occupied.
The phone rang, and she flinched. The caller ID showed Mum.
Hi, love, Nina said, keeping her voice steady.
Nina, dear, how are you? her mothers voice trembled. Ive been feeling uneasy all day. Is everything alright?
Yes, everythings fine, Nina lied. Her mother was already worrying enough about the breakup; an anonymous note would only add to her stress. Just tired from work.
Why dont you come over for the weekend? Ill bake a pie, you can rest
Maybe, Mum. Lets chat on Friday, okay?
After hanging up Nina felt even lonelier. The tea had gone cold; she didnt want to watch TV. She unfolded the note again, staring at the three words.
A knock came at the door. It was tenoclock; who could be here at that hour? She tiptoed to the peephole and saw Michael Stevens, the elderly neighbour from upstairs, standing in the landing.
Whos there? she called, just in case.
Its me, Michael Stevens. Open up, Nina.
She opened the door but left the chain on.
Sorry for the late visit, Michael said sheepishly. My pipe is leaking. Does any water come down to you?
No, everythings dry, Nina replied, relieved. Thanks for checking.
Good, thought Id let you know. Ive called a plumber; theyll be here tomorrow.
When Michael left, Nina realised how foolish she had been. The note was probably a prank by some student; her imagination had run wild after all the detective novels shed been devouring lately.
She tried to settle down for sleep, but the night was restless. Every creak of the old building, the distant hum of traffic, seemed ominous.
The next morning she ate a quick breakfast, downed a strong cup of coffee and headed to work. The day promised a busy schedule: the authors visit, the hall setup, and finishing the new arrivals.
The library was already buzzing. Angela gave orders, Emma arranged chairs in the small hall, and Aunt Clara scrubbed the floors with a disgruntled air.
Nina, a man asked for you earlier, Aunt Clara called out as Nina passed by. Tall, dark coat. I told him you werent in yet.
A man? Nina stopped. He didnt give his name?
No, he said hed come back later.
The thought of He knows. Run flashed through her mind again. Who was this stranger, and what did he want?
She settled at her desk, hoping the work would calm her nerves. Half an hour later, there was a knock.
Come in, Nina called, eyes still on the screen.
The door opened to reveal a tall man in a dark overcoat. Ninas breath caught. It was Andrew, a former schoolmate of Simons, someone shed only met a handful of times.
Hello, Nina, he said, closing the door behind him. Sorry to barge in, but we need to talk.
About what? her voice trembled slightly.
Andrew glanced around, as if checking the room was empty, and sat opposite her.
Its about Simon, he began quietly. And about you.
Were over, Nina replied curtly. If you have business with him, go to him directly.
It isnt about the breakup. Its much more serious.
He leaned forward, voice dropping.
Did you get my note? he asked.
Nina felt a chill run down her spine.
Your note? He knows. Run? What does that mean?
Andrews eyes flicked to the door.
It means Simon isnt who he says he is. He knows Ive uncovered something, and now he thinks you might know too.
Know what? Ninas mind raced.
What Simon really does for a living, Andrew pulled a phone from his pocket and showed her a picture. Simon was standing with a man in front of an nondescript grey building. That was taken three days ago. Do you recognise the place?
Nina shook her head.
Thats the office of Eastbank Investments, the firm the papers have been writing about lately. They swindled hundreds of retirees with bogus highinterest accounts and then vanished with the money.
And Simon? Nina asked, bewildered. He works at a car showroom.
Thats a cover, Andrew showed another photo. Hes actually one of the ring leaders.
Nina stared, disbelieving. The man shed lived with for four years, who loved cooking on weekends and collecting old vinyl records, was a fraud?
Why did you write run? she asked, voice shaking. Who am I supposed to run from?
Because hes dangerous, Andrew said gravely. Since I started asking questions, Ive been followed. The last person who tried exposing them ended up in a car accident.
Nina remembered the unsettling feeling that someone was watching her that night. Was it paranoia, or real surveillance?
What should I do? she asked, desperate.
Leave town, at least until its safe. Do you have somewhere to go?
She thought of her mother in a small market town three hundred miles away.
Yes, I can.
Then pack a bag and leave today. Ill contact you when its safe to return.
When Andrew left, Nina sat staring at the empty wall, the strange night feeling like a plot from one of the detective books she loved. Yet the photos hed shown were real, and the note was real.
She walked to Angelas office.
I need to take urgent leave. Family emergency. Can I have a few days off?
Angela looked concerned.
Is everything all right? You look pale.
My mother is ill, Nina lied. I have to be with her.
Of course, go. Well manage the authors talk without you.
Nina hurried home, stuffing passport, cash, a change of clothes into a small suitcase. She called her mum.
Mum, Im on the evening train, arriving tonight, she said.
Is something wrong? her mother asked, voice tight.
No, I just miss you, Nina replied.
She passed the bookcase and stopped at a framed photograph: Nina and Simon on a sunny beach, smiles bright. She stared at his face, wondering how she could have been so wrong about him.
A sudden knock made her freeze. She crept to the peephole and saw Simon standing on the landing.
Her heart hammered. He knows. Run. She stood frozen, unsure what to do.
Nina, I know youre home, Simons voice was calm, though a hint of fatigue slipped in. Please open the door; we need to talk.
She stayed silent, afraid to breathe.
Its about Andrew, Simon continued. He was here today, right? Talked about Eastbank Investments and me?
How could he know? Was someone really watching her?
Nina, listen, its not what you think, his tone softened, pleading. Andrew misunderstood everything. I can explain.
She remained mute, mind racing. Jump out the balcony? She lived on the third floor. Call the police? What would she say that her former partner was at her door begging to speak?
Fine, Simon sighed. If you wont open, Ill leave a note. Read it, then call me.
She heard the rustle of paper, then footsteps receding up the stairs. After a few minutes she eased the door open just enough to see a folded sheet on the floor. She snatched it up and shut the door.
The note read: Nina, Im working undercover. Im investigating Eastbank Investments with the police. Andrew is a suspect. Dont trust him. Call me, Ill explain. Simon
Nina read it over and over. Which note was true? The one warning her to run, or the one urging her not to trust Andrew? She clutched both sheets, feeling the weight of contradictions.
She dialed a number that wasnt Simons or Andrews. It was her old friend Marina, now a prosecutor.
Marina, sorry to bother you, Nina began. I need your help. Can you look into a man for me? Its urgent.
What happened? Marinas voice was tense.
Its a long story. Can we meet?
An hour later they were in a tiny café two blocks from Ninas flat. Marina listened without interruption, then stared at her coffee cup.
I can check both Simon and Andrew, but itll take time. In the meantime, you should stay with your mother. Its safer there.
What should I do now? Nina asked, feeling the world closing in.
Go to your mother, as you planned. Youll be safer while I dig.
That night Nina boarded the eastbound train. Watching the city lights recede, she thought how wildly her life had turned. Yesterday she was a quiet librarian mourning a lost love; today she was a reluctant heroine in a reallife thriller.
The train rang its bell just as her phone buzzed. It was Marina.
Nina, Ive found out something, Marina said, breathless. Simon really is working undercover. Hes cooperating with the economiccrime unit. Andrew, on the other hand, is one of the founders of Eastbank Investments.
Nina felt a cold shiver. Andrew had tried to use her to expose Simon, and she had almost believed him.
What now? she asked.
Return home, Marina advised. Simons looking for you. Hes worried.
Why didnt he tell me before? Nina wondered.
Thats something youll have to ask him, Marina replied. Ill keep an eye on things here.
Nina got off at the next station and caught a train back. The questions swirled, but she knew the answer lay with Simon.
He met her on the platform, looking weary, eyes filled with relief.
Thank God youre safe, he exhaled.
Why didnt you tell me? Nina demanded.
I couldnt, he said, spreading his hands. It was a covert operation. Any leak could have blown the whole case. When we got close, it became dangerous, so I stepped away to protect you.
Protect? Nina chuckled bitterly. You broke my heart!
Im sorry, genuine pain flickered in his gaze. I didnt know any other way.
They stood on the bustling station, two people separated not only by months of silence but also by mistrust.
Im not sure I can ever trust you again, Nina confessed. Theres been too much deception.
I understand, he nodded. But I want to make things right, if youll let me.
Nina looked at the man she thought she knew best and realised how little she truly understood about him. Perhaps now, with the cards laid out, they could start anew.
Lets go home, she said. Well talk there.
On the train ride back, Simon explained everything: how he infiltrated Eastbank Investments, how he met Andrew, why he vanished, and how he feared for Ninas safety.
Is it over? Nina asked.
Almost, he replied. The remaining suspects are being rounded up. Andrews already in custody.
Back at her flat, Nina paused at the door.
I dont know what the future holds. I need time to think, she said.
I get that, Simon said, a sad smile on his lips. Ill wait as long as you need.
He left, and Nina stepped inside. On the kitchen table lay the two notes: He knows. Run and Dont trust him. Both had been simultaneously true and false. Life was far messier than any detective story shed ever read.
She walked to the window, gazed at the city lights twinkling below, and felt, for the first time in weeks, a sense of agency. The future was uncertain, but she finally understood that the real power lay in the choices she made, not in the mysteries that surrounded her.
In the end, the lesson was clear: trust must be earned, and the only safe path is the one you choose for yourself.
