Ethan held the envelope in his hands, confused.
"How do you know my name?" he asked, looking at Lena.
She froze for a moment. "What do you mean?"
"This envelope… It has my name. In your handwriting. But it's dated three years ago."
Lena slowly stepped closer, her face pale. She looked at the envelope, then at Ethan. "I—I don't know," she whispered. "I've never seen that before."
Ethan opened the letter. It was short:
*"If you're reading this, I'm sorry. I didn't want you involved. But if he finds me again, I may disappear. Be careful. He won't stop."*
No name. Just her handwriting.
Lena looked shaken. "Ethan, I swear I didn't write this. I don't remember ever being here before this week."
Ethan believed her — or wanted to. But deep inside, questions started to rise.
That night, Lena stayed quiet. She didn't touch her tea. She kept looking at the window, as if expecting someone to appear.
And she was right to worry.
Across town, *Derek Vaughn* had arrived. He stood in his car outside the café at midnight, watching the lights inside. His eyes were cold, sharp, and patient. He wasn't angry. He was calm — too calm. He had waited three years. He could wait a little longer.
The next morning, Ethan walked Lena home. She thanked him with a soft smile. But when Ethan returned to the café, something was wrong.
His door was unlocked.
Inside, nothing was stolen… except the letter.
*Do you want Part 3 next?*
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