#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.

address on this sheet. It’s where your grandfather resided in London three years ago.

it, her skepticism turning into curiosity. Before

at the address with

stranger’s note had instilled in her. After a quick taxi ride back to her hotel, she found herself unable to enjoy the rest of the day. The mysterious address on

her hand, she ordered a room service of coffee and muffins. These creature comforts would keep her alert

her laptop and initiated her search. She Googled the address, inputting the street name given by the stranger. Her eyes scanned through various results, bringing up pictures of the most ordinary apartment building

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 of the apartment, a

bureaucratic databases, property records, and municipal resources. She was

long for her to confirm the existence of an old man named Christopher Johnson connected to the address she had been provided. Her heart quickened as she realized that the stranger had not led her astray. It was clear that her grandfather had

a sense of anticipation, she drafted a text message and sent it to the phone number

as she received the stranger’s concise response: “Wait for me there.” A smile of satisfaction played on Sophia’s lips as she leaned back in her chair. Finally,

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

stranger appeared, his steps brisk and purposeful. His arrival disrupted the silence that had settled around the dilapidated building. With a nod, he invited Sophia to follow

long abandonment. It was as though the very walls exhaled the passage of time, exhaling the stories they held within. Sophia’s eyes scanned the dark room, its once vibrant colors now faded, and cobwebs clung to forgotten corners. The place felt frozen in an era long past, isolated and neglected

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 furniture, and every potential hiding place for clues left

intrusion, as Sophia meticulously examined the spaces, her fingers tracing patterns in the dust. Cobwebs clung to her hair,

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