Chapter 5 —Eva
How do I explain to the librarian that I lost the book I borrowed just yesterday?
I stood in front of the tall building, my heart racing in my chest as I thought of the best possible ways to present my ordeal. My feet tapped against the pavement, eyes fixed on the entrance before me.
A thousand thoughts were tugging at my mind at the same time, and I felt like I was going insane. It didn’t make any sense to me that a book would vanish from my room without a trace.
I’d been thinking about this all day, trying to figure out how likely it was. However, the more I thought about it, the more my head hurt. To prove someone had broken into my room, I asked my buddy, Mark, to help me review the CCTV footage of my dormitory building.
Ten minutes ago, we sat together on the grass under an oak tree, reviewing the tape from last night. To my shock, we found nothing. Even after replaying the footage over and over, we still didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.
What was even crazier was that we checked all the cameras around the dorm, and not a single one captured anything useful.
“This doesn’t make any sense,” I said, tucking my hair behind my ear. “I swear, the book was on my desk when I fell asleep.”
Mark adjusted his glasses, lifting his eyes from the laptop on his lap. “Maybe you stashed it somewhere; you just have to remember,” he suggested, shrugging his shoulders slightly. “I do that a lot.”
“Trust me, Mark,” I said, my voice low and laced with conviction. “I didn’t stash it anywhere—besides, I’ve ransacked my room and still can’t find it.” My brows drew together. “Someone took it.”
“But how?” he asked. “You said the door and windows were locked from the inside.”
“They were, I swear.”
“Eva, the cameras didn’t capture anything unusual—you saw it yourself.”
“I know,” I mumbled under my breath, rubbing my eyes with my fingers.
“Unless…” he said, his expression turning serious.
Curious, I stared at him, anticipating his opinion. “Unless what?”
“…they somehow teleported into your room.” His eyes crinkled at the corners, and a sheepish smile played on his lips.
The shadow of excitement on my face faded, replaced by a frown. “It’s not funny, Mark.” I rose to my feet, slinging my backpack over my shoulder.
“Where’re you going?” He looked up at me.
“To the library,” I answered, walking away.
“What’re you gonna tell them?” he called after me.
I slowed down, then turned around to face him while walking backward with my arms outstretched. “That someone teleported into my room and stole their book.”
He laughed and shook his head.
I drew a deep breath and took the first step toward the entrance. My shoes scuffed against the pavement as I pushed the door open and walked inside. I went straight to Helen’s station behind the counter, wearing a polite smile.
“Hey, Helen.” I halted in front of her, my voice soft and gentle.
“Eva.” She lowered the book from her face. “How are you, kiddo?”
“Uh….” I scratched the back of my head. “I might be in trouble…I think.”
Her green eyes squinted behind those wire-rimmed glasses. “What kind of trouble?”
I pursed my lips, my gaze avoiding hers. “I may or may not have misplaced one of your books.”
A small frown perched on her face. “Evaline Martha Harlow—”
“I’m sorry,” I cut her off, my voice dripping with remorse and confusion. “I don’t know what happened. It was on my desk last night, and this morning, it was gone.” The words rushed out in a defensive tone.
She exhaled sharply, plucking off her glasses as she rubbed her eyes.
“Come on, Helen, you know me. Have I ever lost a borrowed book before?”
She combed her fingers through her butterscotch hair and met my gaze. “Did you search everywhere for it?”
“I did.”
“Maybe someone took it.”
“Right?” I asked rhetorically, “The only problem is, my door was locked all through the night, and my roommate is off campus.”
“Okay, that’s not good,” she murmured.
“Exactly.”
She blew a raspberry, rolling her head in a massaging motion. “Have you reported to the authorities?”
I shook my head. “Not yet.”
“Which book are we talking about anyway?”
“Um….” I thought for a moment. “The Physics of Emotions: Attachment and Abandonment.”
“Hmm.” She tapped her chin like she was thinking. “Doesn’t sound familiar.”
I raised my brows. “You can’t possibly know all the books in here, can you?”
Her lips curled into a faint grin. “You’d be surprised, my dear.” She put her glasses back on and faced her computer on her desk.
Helen Brown had been the school’s librarian for almost a decade. So I guess it’s possible she was familiar with most of the books they had here.
After a quick search on her computer, she raised her head and looked at me. “Yep. We don’t have that here.”
My brows knitted in confusion. “That’s strange.”
“It is strange,” she answered. “But the good news is, you’re off the hook since the book doesn’t belong to the university.”
“Right,” I mumbled under my breath.
Things were starting to feel stranger by the minute as a myriad of thoughts flooded my mind. If the book wasn’t property of the school, then how did it get here?
I had a feeling the man from yesterday was involved in the vanishing of that book. I knew deep down in my heart that he was the one who stole it, but I just couldn’t prove it.
It all made sense now. The book had been left there for him to find. No wonder he didn’t want to let go of it at first. The encrypted messages, the location, the dates and times—they were all for him.
If that man had somehow broken into my room, I should consider myself lucky to still be alive. Being in my space would mean he must have seen my scribbles and everything I was able to decode.
I had access to information that wasn’t meant for me, and as a Bratva member, he wasn’t supposed to have left me alive. Yet here I was, hale and hearty. He didn’t destroy my findings, nor did he tear out the pages where I’d decoded the messages.
What the hell was going on?
I left the library more confused than I had come, and even while in class, my mind kept returning to the mystery man and the strange book. Throughout the lecture, I was distracted, my eyes constantly flicking between the professor and the half-deciphered message on my notebook.
A part of me wanted to let it go, especially because it involved the Russian Mafia. However, the more I thought about it, the more my curiosity spiked. I needed to know for sure what was happening; it was the only way I could be at peace.
Later that evening, despite my better judgment, I decided to take a quick trip to the warehouse by the docks. I knew it was a dumb move and might only land me in more trouble. But I needed answers.
The plan was to satisfy my curiosity—to know whether the messages truly meant something. I wasn’t going to waste so much time; I’d just visit the location, check it out, and then I’d be on my merry way. Easy peasy.
By the time the Uber driver dropped me at the docks, it was already sundown. I stepped out into the night, the cool breeze brushing against my skin. The air was thick with the smell of salt, seaweed, and diesel.
After the Uber driver drove away, I flipped my hoodie on and headed down the gentle slope. The wharves were deserted at that time of night, with flickering streetlamps casting long shadows across them. The sound of overlapping waves and the occasional creak of a ship’s hull filled the night.
Quietly, I moved among the shadows between rows of cargo containers, careful not to make a sound. Not long after, I spotted a warehouse looming ahead of me, with dim lights visible through the window.
I hurried over there with silent footsteps while stealing nervous glances over my shoulder. When I reached the entrance, I hid with my back against the wall. This was because I’d heard a noise from inside when I tried to grab the door handle.
From where I hid, I could hear the muffled voices of men talking behind the closed door. I ducked and crept to the window for a clearer look.
Nothing could’ve prepared me for what I witnessed next.
I watched a tall man in a black outfit slit another man’s throat in a single sweep. My breath hitched, and my palm flew to cover my mouth. Shocked to my bones, my eyes widened in fear, and my heart began hammering in my chest. I felt weak in the knees and was already sweating in awkward places.
To make matters worse, I recognized the killer—it was the same man from the library.
He was surrounded by armed, hefty men, and at his feet were three others, kneeling with their hands bound behind their backs. They were pleading for mercy, but this devil paid no attention to them.
My heart shattered when I watched him drive his knife into their hearts, one after the other. Blood pooled at his feet, staining his polished shoes as he towered over their corpses.
This devil showed no remorse or guilt—almost as if to him, the men he’d just killed were nothing but chickens.
I pressed my palm tightly against my mouth so no sound would escape and expose me.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!
Panic had fully set in by this point, and I nearly peed my pants out of fear. I’d walked into something that most people didn’t survive.
My brain went blank, and I couldn’t think of anything at that moment. All I knew was that I was so screwed and that there was a 99.99 percent chance I might not live to tell the tale of what I had just witnessed.
I should’ve stayed back in my dorm—I never should’ve come out here.
Fuck.