Adrian sat on the dusty floor of Eva's old room, staring at the notebook in his hands. His heart was racing. The words burned in his mind like a fire that wouldn't go out:
"Start with the boy in the black coat."
He looked down at himself. The black coat he wore — the same one he had owned for years — was now more than just clothing. It was a symbol. A clue. A part of whatever story Eva had left behind.
But why would she write that? And why now?
He flipped through more pages of her notebook. Most of it was written like a diary — short entries, scattered thoughts. But some pages were torn out. Others were stained with something that looked like dried water. Maybe tears.
One entry caught his attention:
"Sometimes I feel like someone is watching me.
Not just following.
Watching.
There's a difference."
Adrian read it twice.
He had never known Eva to be paranoid. She was the brave one. The one who always said, "We'll figure it out." But something had changed in her. And she had never told him.
Or maybe… she had tried.
And he hadn't listened.
He stood up, dusted off his coat, and placed the small notebook carefully into his bag.
The house creaked softly behind him as he walked downstairs. The air smelled old — like time had stopped here. Outside, the wind had picked up. Leaves danced across the garden path.
He locked the door behind him.
It was time to follow the trail.
But where?
The boy in the black coat… That was how someone had seen him. Maybe someone else had been watching them, even back then. The photo at the lake — someone took that without their knowledge. That meant someone had been close. Very close.
And still might be.
Back at the cabin, Adrian lit the fire again and sat down at the table. He placed all three notes on the surface:
"I'll be waiting — where it all began.""Find the rose.""Inside the wall, behind the mirror."
Each one had led him somewhere real.
He wrote in his own notebook:
She's guiding me.
But why the coat?
Why now?
Then, he remembered something.
Ten years ago, just days before Eva vanished, he had seen someone in a black coat at the edge of the schoolyard. He'd thought nothing of it then. Just a stranger. But maybe that coat — his coat — wasn't unique. Maybe it was a sign.
Was there another boy in a black coat?
He needed answers.
And there was only one person who might have them.