#86 “How do you know my grandfather?”

Sophia scrutinized the man with a keen eye, her gaze taking in every detail. He was cloaked in a long black coat, and a hat cast a shadow over half of his face. Nothing about his appearance rang familiar, and an unsettling feeling gnawed at her.

A furrowed brow accentuated her suspicion as she inquired, “How do you know my grandfather?”

The man’s reply was curt, offering no explanation. “That’s not important now. He wanted me to meet you and give you a message.”

Sophia didn’t appreciate his evasive response; it only heightened her wariness. “Then tell me the message,” she shot back sharply. Unfazed by her skepticism, he continued, “Not here. We need to go to a more secluded place to…”

Sophia cut him off abruptly. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

A cold, enigmatic smile played upon the man’s lips. He produced a piece of paper and a pen from his pocket, hastily scribbling down something.

check the address on this sheet. It’s where your grandfather resided in London three

curiosity. Before departing, the man issued a parting

the piece of paper, staring at the address with a sense of foreboding. It

note had instilled in her. After a quick taxi ride back to her hotel, she found herself unable to enjoy

time. With the note clutched in her hand, she ordered a room service of coffee and muffins. These creature comforts

address, inputting the street name given by the stranger. Her eyes scanned through various results, bringing up pictures of the most ordinary apartment building she had ever seen. There

was determined to uncover the truth. She knew that the address alone wouldn’t suffice; she needed more information to connect the dots. Her next task was to discover the owner

her focus and decided to access the website of London’s town planning. It was a meticulous process, navigating through bureaucratic databases, property records, and municipal resources. She was aware that the answers to her questions might be buried deep within this labyrinth of

and databases, Sophia’s meticulous efforts began to yield results. It didn’t take long for her to confirm the existence of an old man named Christopher Johnson connected to the address she had been provided. Her

with this confirmation, Sophia felt compelled to take action. With a sense of anticipation, she drafted a text message and sent it to the phone number he had

she received the stranger’s concise response: “Wait for me there.” A smile of satisfaction played on Sophia’s lips as

in the morning sky as Sophia stood in front of the address, waiting for the stranger. She looked around the

silence that had settled around the

Sophia’s eyes scanned the dark room, its once vibrant colors now

as if he knew more than he let on. She began her search, each step echoing through the deserted place. Sophia moved carefully, checking every room, every piece of

as Sophia meticulously examined the spaces, her fingers tracing patterns in the dust. Cobwebs clung to her hair, and she brushed them

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