Chapter 8 - The Message Left for Tomorrow
The room fell silent again.
Marcus checked the handwritten date twice before passing the paper to Dana.
"It has to be a coincidence."
Dana wasn't convinced.
"The ink isn't."
Everyone leaned closer.
Unlike the faded notes surrounding it, the writing beside the map appeared noticeably darker, almost fresh despite the notebook's age.
The detective carefully inspected the page.
"This wasn't written twelve years ago."
Victor immediately spoke.
"Impossible."
Marcus looked toward him.
"You seem very certain."
"Because that notebook has been sealed for years."
Eleanor slowly closed her eyes.
"It shouldn't be possible..."
Dana examined the binding.
"The page has been added later."
Marcus carefully separated two sheets that had been lightly glued together.
Hidden between them was a narrow strip of paper no wider than a finger.
Someone had concealed it deliberately.
On the strip was a single sentence.
If you are reading this, someone finally forced the box open before Samuel arrived. Do not let anyone remove these documents from the airport.
Marcus felt a chill run down his spine.
The note anticipated this exact moment.
The detective immediately ordered the inspection room doors secured.
"No one enters or leaves until every item is catalogued."
Victor's calm demeanor disappeared.
"This is ridiculous."
"No," Dana answered evenly.
"What's ridiculous is that every document we've opened predicts the next discovery."
Marcus looked through the remaining contents of the compartment.
Most were financial records, handwritten letters, and coded lists whose meaning remained unclear.
Then he found something entirely different.
A small cassette labeled only with today's date.
No year.
Just the month and day.
The detective frowned.
"That's impossible."
Marcus turned the cassette over.
A tiny handwritten instruction covered the back.
Play only after verifying the archive still exists.
Before anyone could discuss it further, an airport communications officer rushed into the room.
"Detective."
"What is it?"
"We searched the historical flight database."
"And?"
"The passenger named Rebecca Lawson was deleted from every electronic record."
Marcus wasn't surprised.
"But..."
The communications officer hesitated.
"We also checked the paper archives."
Everyone waited.
"The original manifest still exists."
"And?"
The officer looked directly at Eleanor.
"Rebecca Lawson wasn't traveling alone."
Marcus asked quietly,
"Who was with her?"
The officer handed over a photocopy of the manifest.
A second name appeared directly beneath Rebecca's.
It belonged to a child.
A six-year-old boy.
The surname wasn't Lawson.
It wasn't Whitmore either.
Eleanor stared at it for several seconds before whispering,
"No..."
Marcus looked at the name one more time.
May you like
Then he slowly raised his eyes toward Victor, whose face had gone completely pale.
Because the little boy listed beside Rebecca carried Victor's family name.
