CHAPTER 51
Dawn was falling over the city, and an unusual darkness hung over the horizon. The streetlights cast elongated shadows, creating a dense and mysterious atmosphere. At the hotel, the reception was silent as the strange man in the black suit and hat entered.
His footsteps were silent, echoing through the empty hall. The man walked with a cold confidence, his face hidden by the brim of his hat. The receptionist, a young man of the night, looked up, feeling a shiver run down his spine as he stared into the visitor's icy eyes.
The man moved from the counter in a disturbing outfit. His voice was soft, but carried an aura of mystery when he said:
-A room AND a meal.
-Room 17. The receptionist said without question who the man was and where he came from and handed over the key, feeling uncomfortable under the stranger's penetrating gaze.
In the corridor, the light was dim because the lamps were already at their end, and the man advanced like a shadow, his footsteps almost inaudible. Room 17 awaited him, and as he turned the key in the lock, the door creaked softly. The darkness of the room was interrupted only by the faint glow of moonlight coming through the curtain.
The strange man remained silent, observing the interior of the room. His cold gaze swept the room, as if searching for something or someone. The shared atmosphere suggested that his presence was not just a chance coincidence.
As dawn approached, the stranger remained in the room, immersed in his own dark thoughts. The city outside remained silent, oblivious to the enigmatic presence hiding in the hotel;
At dawn, when the first rays of sunlight broke through the darkness, the man in the black suit left the room like a fading shadow. The hotel lobby slept in silence, and the receptionist, checking the register, discovered that room 17 had been booked with no end date...
The morning unfolded silently in the small café on the edge of town. The man in the black suit, now outside the hotel, found his way to the place. As he entered, his footsteps reverberated in the cozy atmosphere, attracting the attention of Clara Stanton, the only attendant present that quiet morning.
Clara, a warm young woman, felt a shiver run down her spine as she met the stranger's gaze. He chose a secluded table, as if he appreciated the solitude, and his order, direct and precise, revealed a preference for a simple meal: eggs with bacon and black coffee, without sugar.
Clara handed over the coffee with trembling hands. The man's presence, despite his impeccable appearance, enveloped the room in an aura of mystery and unease. Clara tried to perceive the feeling of unease as she wrote down the rest of the order, but her eyes kept involuntarily traveling in the direction of the enigmatic customer.
As he savored his meal, the man watched Clara intently, as if reading something beyond the words written on his menu. His silence was unsettling, only broken by the sound of cutlery touching the plate. The atmosphere in the café changed, becoming dense and meaningful, as if the air were imbued with a dark secret.
When the man decided to leave, he rose from the table and approached the counter where Clara was standing. His eyes penetrated hers, and the young man felt an inexplicable sense of vulnerability, and he smiled mischievously. The question about his name reverberated in the air, and before Clara could answer, he handed her a piece of paper.
The cruel smile on his face made Clara cringe inwardly. She held the paper, watching the man disappear into the clear morning;
She held the paper, watching the man disappear into the clear morning. When she had the courage to unfold the paper, she came across something she hadn't expected: an official government report. Her eyes scanned the lines of the document, revealing the devastating news that the café was prevented from operating.
Confusion and panic settled over Clara's face. The report explained a series of irregularities, from health issues to expired licenses. There was no room for doubt: the café, which had been her and her husband Jessy's livelihood, was now under the shadow of an official concession. Clara didn't understand what was going on, because the last inspection was all correct, she didn't know what to do, she needed Abigail's help, because now that she was back she could take care of her establishment.
Clara looked at the address and location listed on the report, trying to understand what had led to the government's harsh measures. The man in the black suit, with his mischievous smile, now seemed to have delivered not just a piece of paper, but a cruel blow to the heart of the life that Clara and Jessy had built with so much effort.
Worry interested Clara as she processed the situation. With her café now off-limits, the future became uncertain. The shadows of the clear morning revealed an unexpected turn in the young attendant's life and, without further explanation, she found herself facing a challenge that she would need to face with determination and courage.
As the sun continued to illuminate the city, Clara put the paper away in her apron, carrying with her not only the mystery of the man in the black suit, but also the unease of something that would unfold in the shadows of the night. The day wore on, but the stranger's malicious smile remained in Clara's mind, like an unwelcome shadow that refused to go away.
The sun began to give way to morning twilight as Clara, in a mixture of anxiety and determination, began her walk towards the back of the café. The orange light of the early morning reflected in the old windows, creating a tranquil scene that contrasted with the inner storm Clara was carrying.
When she reached the door to Abigail's room, Clara hesitated for a moment before knocking softly.
On knocking, Clara was greeted by Abigail, whose eyes showed a mixture of surprise and concern as she saw the distress on the young woman's face.
-Clara, darling, has something happened?
Clara entered the house with a sigh, holding the government report tightly.
-Abigail, we have a problem. We received this document today. The café is not working and I don't know what to do. It's like the ground has been lifted from my feet. I don't know what I did wrong, while you weren't here, for this to have happened.
Abigail looked at the document, her face expressing a mixture of concern and deep thought.
-Let's sit down, Clara. Let's figure out what we can do.
They both sat in the small living room, where the soft light of late afternoon filtered through the curtains. Abigail examined the report, her fingers tracing the lines as the words took on meaning, Clara recounted everything that had happened when that mysterious man arrived at the café and handed over that piece of paper.
-Calm down, Clara... I'll sort it out. I know where to go for help.
Clara left for the café, closing the doors and sealing them shut until further notice, obeying the command Abigail had given her, while Abigail made her way to the judge's office.
The morning sun was bathing the city when Abigail, determined to face the adversity that hung over the café, walked towards Judge Bill Avery's office. Her footsteps resounded in the silent corridor as she held her head high, determined to seek help in that place which, in addition to a magistrate, she already called love in her heart...
When she reached Bill's office door, Abigail took a deep breath before knocking softly. The door opened, revealing an interior illuminated by the soft light coming through the curtains. Bill was sitting at his desk, immersed in papers and law books. His eyes met Abigail's, and a gentle smile formed on his lips.
-Abigail, what a pleasant surprise. Please come in. Bill indicated a chair in front of her.
Abigail entered and closed the door behind her. She could feel the welcoming warmth of the office, but unease still weighed heavily on her heart.
-Bill, I need your help, Abigail began, a serious expression on her face.
-What's wrong, Abigail? Bill asked, looking into her eyes.
-The café is not working. We've received a report from the government, and I don't know what to do. I... I don't want to lose everything we've built.
Bill listened intently, his eyes fixed on hers.
-I'll do what I can to help, Abigail. Let me see that report.
Abigail handed the document to Bill, who looked at it carefully. His dark eyes ran over the lines, and a serious expression formed on his face.
-I'll look into it. It's a tough blow, Abigail, but I promise I'll do my best to find out what's behind it. Bill declared, saying that the conversation wouldn't end there.
-For the time being, Abigail, it would be best to keep the café closed. That will give us time to understand the situation. Don't worry; I'll do everything I can. Please trust me.
A sigh of relief escaped Abigail's lips. She was silently grateful for Bill's support, even if they were now just friends and allies in the quest for justice. As she left the office, she felt invigorated by the hope that, with Bill's help, she could overcome yet another challenge.
The café would remain closed temporarily, but Abigail knew that, with Bill's promise by her side, the search for truth and justice was beginning. The town was silent, but in Abigail and Bill's hearts, a new chapter was opening, marked by their determination to face the shadows that threatened the café and the life they had so carefully built.