I found a slip of paper tucked in the drawer of my desk: He knows. Run.
Nina Thompson, could you check the catalogue cards in the third drawer? It looks like the students have mixed everything up again, said the librarys head, Angela Parker, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. And please dont stay late tonight. Youve been putting in far too many hours lately.
Right, Ms. Parker, Ill handle it, Nina replied, barely looking up from her screen. 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 worn oak floor. The town library occupied the old building of a former grammar school, with lofty ceilings, ornate cornices and creaking floorboards that announced a visitors approach long before they entered.
Nina had indeed been staying until nightfall for the past three weeks, but not because she was diligent, as Angela assumed. She simply had no one waiting for her at home since Stephen left, taking not only his belongings but also the warmth that once filled their modest flat. Now the only sound was the ticking of an old clock left by her grandmother.
At the library, work was constant. Nina loved the smell of books, the rustle of pages, even the dust that settled on the top shelves despite the best efforts of the cleaner, Aunt Clara. Here she felt useful and in her element.
Nina, dont forget we have a writer coming tomorrow, peeked Olivia, a young librarian from the membership desk. We need the small hall set up and the flyers printed.
Ive got the flyers, Olivia, Nina smiled. Theyre in the top drawer of my desk. Please take them, I still have cataloguing to finish.
Olivia nodded, walked over to the massive oak desk where Nina worked, slid open the upper drawer and pulled out the folder of flyers.
Whats this? she asked, pulling a loose sheet along with the folder.
What? Nina turned toward her.
It looks like a note. Must have fallen out of the folder.
Olivia handed her a folded piece of notebook paper. Nina unfolded it and read three words scrawled in a hurried hand: He knows. Run.
Her heart missed a beat. The first thought was that it was a joke, but deep down she knew it wasnt. She carefully refolded the paper and slipped it into the pocket of her coat.
Just a prank, she said, trying to keep her voice casual. Probably one of the students dropped it. Theyre always passing notes around.
Olivia shrugged.
Ill go hang the flyers.
When the door closed behind Olivia, Nina took the note out again. He knows. Run. Who knew? What for? Who had written it?
The handwriting seemed familiar, but Nina couldnt place it. She ran through the scripts of her colleaguesnone matched. Could it have been Stephen? Why would he write something like that? Their breakup had been quiet, almost amicable. Hed simply said he no longer felt the same and that theyd be better as friends. Predictable, like a cheap romance novel.
She tried to focus on work, but the note kept looping in her mind. By the end of the day she finally finished the catalogue, handed in the keys to the guard and stepped out into a damp October evening. A fine drizzle fell, and the streetlamps smeared into yellow halos through the mist.
The walk home was a fifteenminute stroll. Usually she enjoyed itpast the old park, through a cosy courtyard with swings where children played in the daylight. Tonight every shadow felt threatening, every sound made her flinch. He knows. Run. Run from what?
She entered the flat block and sighed in relief. The hallway was quiet and bright. She climbed to the third floor, opened the door to her flat and was greeted by the usual silence, the faint scent of cinnamon from the sachet shed hung by the entrance to mask Stephens absence.
She slipped off her coat, hung it on the peg and made her way to the kitchen. She put the kettle on, pulled out yesterdays salad from the fridge. She didnt feel like eating, but needed something to keep her hands busy.
The phone rang and she startled. The caller ID showed Mum.
Hi, Mum, Nina answered, keeping her tone steady.
Nina love, are you alright? her mothers voice wavered. Ive been feeling uneasy all day. Everything okay with you?
Yes, everythings fine, Nina lied. Her mother already worried enough about the breakup; she didnt need anonymous notes to add to it. Just a bit tired at work.
How about coming over for the weekend? Ill bake a pie, you can rest
Maybe, Mum. Lets talk on Friday, okay?
After hanging up Nina felt even lonelier. The tea went cold; she wasnt hungry, nor did she want to watch TV. She unfolded the note again, staring at the three words.
A knock came at the door. It was ten oclockwho could be visiting this late? She tiptoed to the peephole and saw Michael Stevens, the elderly neighbour from upstairs.
Whos there? she called out, just in case.
Its me, Michael Stevens. Open up, love.
She opened the door but didnt take off the chain.
Sorry for the late visit, he stammered. My pipe is leaking. Does any water come down into yours?
No, everythings dry, Nina replied, relieved. Thanks for checking.
Good, I was worried. Ive called a plumber; theyll come tomorrow.
When Michael left, Nina felt foolish. She was panicking over a note that students probably slipped in as a prank. Her imagination, fed by the detective novels shed been devouring, was running wild.
She tried to calm herself, but sleep wouldnt come. She tossed and turned, listening to every creak. Outside the rain drummed, distant cars passed, ordinary nocturnal sounds that tonight seemed ominous.
Morning found her exhausted. After a quick breakfast and a strong coffee, she headed back to work. The day ahead was busy: the writers visit, setting up the hall, and finishing the new arrivals.
The library buzzed with activity. Angela handed out instructions, Olivia arranged chairs in the small hall, and Aunt Clara scrubbed the floors with a frown.
Nina, a man was asking for you earlier, said Aunt Clara as Nina passed by. Tall, in a dark coat. I told him you werent here yet.
A man? Nina stopped. He didnt give his name?
No, he said hed come back later.
The thought He knows. Run flashed again. Who was this stranger? What did he want? Nina tried to steady herself; perhaps it was just a curious patron or a publishers rep.
She settled at her computer, hoping work would anchor her. Half an hour later there was a knock.
Come in, Nina called, eyes still on the screen.
The door opened and a tall man in a dark coat stepped in. Ninas breath caught. It was Andrew, a former classmate of Stephens. They had met only a handful of times over the years.
Hello, Nina, he said, closing the door behind him. Sorry to intrude, but we need to talk.
About what? her voice rose slightly, edged with fear.
Andrew glanced around, as if checking for witnesses, then sat opposite her.
Its about Stephen, he began quietly. And about you.
Were over, Nina replied bluntly. If you have business with him, contact him directly.
It isnt about the breakup. Its far more serious.
He leaned in, lowering his voice.
Did you get my note? he asked.
Nina felt a chill run down her spine.
Your note? He knows. Run? What does that mean?
Andrew glanced nervously at the door.
It means Stephen isnt who he appears to be. Hes been investigated, and now hes onto us. He might think you know something too.
Know what? Nina was lost.
What Stephen really does, Andrew produced his phone and showed a photo. Stephen was talking to a man in front of a drab grey building. This was taken three days ago. Know this place?
Nina shook her head.
Thats the office of Eastfield Investments, the firm that recently made headlines for swindling hundreds of pensioners with highinterest promises and then vanishing with the money.
And Stephen? Nina asked, still bewildered. He works at a car showroom.
Thats a front, Andrew showed another picture. Hes actually one of the organisers of that scheme.
Nina stared, unable to process. The man she had lived with for four years, who loved weekend cooking and collecting old vinyl, was now a fraudster preying on the elderly?
Why did you write run? she asked, voice trembling. Run from what?
Because hes dangerous, Andrew said, eyes serious. When I started asking questions, I was followed. I even learned that the person who tried to expose them before died in a car accident.
Nina remembered the uneasy feeling that someone might be watching her that night. Was it paranoia or real surveillance?
What should I do? she pleaded.
Get out of town, at least until its safe. Do you have somewhere to go?
Nina thought of her mother, who lived in a small market town three hundred miles away.
I do.
Then pack and leave today. Ill contact you when its safe to return.
When Andrew left, Nina sat staring at the empty desk, the reality of the situation sinking in like a plot from one of the mysteries she loved. She gathered her courage and walked to Angelas office.
I need to take leave for family reasons. Can I have a few days off? she asked.
Angela looked concerned.
Is everything alright? You look pale.
My mother is ill, Nina said. I have to be with her.
Of course, take the time you need. Well manage the writers event without you.
At home Nina quickly packed a small bag: passport, a few pounds, some clothes. She called her mother.
Mum, Im on the evening train tomorrow, she said.
Whats happened? her mothers voice trembled.
Nothing, just I miss you, thats all.
Passing the bookshelf, Nina paused. A framed photograph of her and Stephen on a sunny beach caught her eye. Their smiles seemed distant now. Had she been so wrong about him?
A knock sounded at the door. Ninas heart jumped. She peered through the peephole and saw Stephen standing on the landing.
Her throat tightened. He knows. Run. She stood frozen.
Nina, I know youre home, Stephens voice was calm, a hint of fatigue. Please open the door. We need to talk.
She stayed silent, afraid even to breathe.
Its about Andrew, he continued. He was here today, right? Talking about Eastfield Investments and me?
How could he know? Was she truly being watched?
Nina, listen, this isnt what you think, Stephens tone softened, pleading. Andrew got it all wrong. I can explain everything.
She remained silent, her mind racing. Should she flee through the balcony? She lived on the third floor. Call the police? What would she say that her former partner was at her door demanding conversation?
Fine, Stephen sighed. If you wont open, Ill leave a note.
He shuffled away, the sound of his steps fading up the stairs. After a few minutes Nina cautiously opened the door. On the floor lay a folded sheet of paper. She snatched it up and shut the door quickly.
The note read: Nina, Im undercover. Im investigating Eastfield Investments with the police. Andrew is one of the suspects. Dont trust him. Call me, Ill explain. Stephen.
Nina read the note several times. Who should she believe? Andrew, a man she barely knew, or Stephen, the man she had spent four years with, who now seemed to be hiding a part of his life?
She collapsed onto the sofa, clutching both notes He knows. Run and Dont trust him. The tangled web of lies and halftruths left her reeling.
She dialed a numbernot Stephens, not Andrewsbut her old friend Marina, who worked for the Crown Prosecution Service.
Marina, sorry to bother you, Nina began. I need your help. Can you look into a man for me? Its important.
Whats happened? Marinas voice reflected concern.
Its complicated. Can we meet?
An hour later they sat in a tiny café two streets from Ninas flat. Marina listened without interruption, then stared at her coffee cup, tapping the side with a nail.
I can check both Stephen and Andrew, but itll take time. In the meantime, you should go to your mothers. Itll be safer while we sort this out.
Nina nodded, feeling the weight lift slightly.
That evening she boarded a train heading east. Watching the towns lights recede, she thought of how absurd her life had become. Yesterday she was a quiet librarian grieving a lost love; today she was a reluctant heroine in a realworld thriller.
The trains phone rang. It was Marina.
Nina, Ive found out that Stephen really is undercover. Hes been working with the economic crime unit, Marina said, voice tight. And Andrew? Hes linked to Eastfield Investments actually one of its founders.
A cold shiver ran down Ninas spine. Andrew had tried to use her to expose Stephen, but now the truth lay bare.
What do I do now? Nina asked.
Return home, Marina advised. Stephen is looking for you. Hes worried.
Why didnt he tell me before? Why did he disappear?
Thats something youll have to ask him, Marina replied. He couldnt risk blowing the operation.
Nina got off at the next station and caught a train back. A dozen questions swirled in her head, answers only Stephen could give.
He met her on the platform, eyes shadowed with concern. Seeing her, he let out a relieved sigh.
Thank God youre safe.
Why didnt you tell me? Nina asked, the first words bursting out.
I couldnt, he said, spreading his hands. It was a covert operation. Any leak could have ruined everything. When we got close to the end, it became dangerous, so I left to keep you out of harms way.
Protect? Nina managed a bitter laugh. You broke my heart!
Im sorry, genuine pain filled his gaze. I had no other choice.
They stood in the bustling station, two people divided not only by months of distance but by a breach of trust.
I dont know if I can trust you again, Nina admitted. So much has been hidden.
I understand, Stephen said. But I want to make things right, if youll let me.
Nina looked at the man she thought she knew best and realised she had never truly known him at all. Now that the cards were on the table, perhaps they could start anew.
Lets go home, she said. Well talk there.
On the way back, Stephen recounted everything: how he infiltrated Eastfield, how he met Andrew, why he had to disappear, and how hed been trying to keep her safe all along.
And now? Nina asked. Is the operation over?
Almost, he replied. We just need to apprehend a few more people. Andrews already in custody.
Outside her flat, Nina paused.
I dont know what the future holds. I need time to process everything.
I get that, Stephen replied softly. Ill wait as long as it takes.
He walked away, and Nina stepped inside the empty apartment. On the table lay the two notes: He knows. Run and Dont trust him. Both held truth and deception in equal measure. Life proved far more complicated than any detective novel shed ever read.
She walked to the window, gazed at the city lights flickering below, and felt, for the first time in months, that she could choose her path. The lesson lingered clear as day: trust must be earned, and sometimes the hardest part of surviving is deciding when to run and when to face the truth.
