Daniel stared at the message on his phone.We know you found the account.A second message appeared.Now the real game begins.He read it twice before locking his screen.The bank manager stood behind the desk, visibly uncomfortable. "Mr. Carter, I think you should leave."Daniel looked at him. "Why?"The manager lowered his voice. "Because if someone received an alert the moment you accessed this account, they know exactly where you are."Daniel glanced toward the glass entrance. The bank suddenly felt too quiet."Who are the three people who received the alert?""I don't know.""Check.""I can't.""Why?""The system is protected."Daniel leaned forward. "You opened the account for me.""I only followed the instructions attached to it.""Then follow the instructions again."The manager shook his head. "I can't."Daniel was about to respond when Adrian touched his arm. "Let's go."Daniel looked at him. "You think we should leave?""Yes.""Why?""Because he's right." Adrian looked towa

Daniel stood beside his car, staring at the final message on his phone.Because he was the one who opened your cell door that night.His thumb hovered over the screen. He wanted to call the number back. But when he tried, the call failed. The number no longer existed.Daniel slipped the phone into his pocket. Samuel. The prison guard who had opened his cell on the night everything changed.For seven years, Daniel had remembered that night as a blur. He remembered waking up with a terrible headache. He remembered the cold floor beneath him. He remembered hearing footsteps. After that, nothing. The next thing he remembered was waking in the prison infirmary. The officials had told him he had suffered a medical episode. He had believed them. Now he wasn't sure he had ever been sick.Daniel started his car. He had an address for Samuel. He was going to find him.The address led him to a quiet neighborhood nearly an hour away. Daniel parked across the street from a small house. The place l

Daniel stared at the photograph on his phone. His father sat in a dark room, his hands tied behind a chair. Behind him was the number 17. The same number that had appeared in Daniel's prison records. The same number connected to the nights he could not remember.His phone vibrated again.Tomorrow night. Old prison. Come alone.Daniel locked the screen.Adrian stood across the desk, watching him. "You're not seriously planning to go there alone.""I have to.""It's a trap.""I know.""Then why walk into it?""Because my father is there."Adrian sighed. "There has to be another way."Daniel looked at him. "There isn't.""Then let me come with you.""No.""Daniel—""They told me to come alone.""And you believe they'll let your father go if you do?"Daniel didn't answer.Adrian stepped closer. "You've been investigating people who are willing to kill to protect their secrets. You can't keep treating this like a business problem."Daniel looked down at the file. "I spent seven years behin

Daniel read the final message again.Come to Cell 17 tomorrow night.And Daniel... don't bring the evidence. Bring the truth.He lowered his phone slowly. For the first time in years, he felt something he had almost forgotten. Fear. Not fear for himself. Fear for his father.Adrian watched him carefully. "What are you going to do?"Daniel slipped the phone into his pocket. "I'm going to find out what they mean by the truth.""And your father?""I'm bringing him home."Adrian shook his head. "You're walking into a trap.""I know.""You don't have to go tonight.""I know.""Then why do you look like you've already made up your mind?"Daniel looked at him. "Because seven years ago, they took my freedom." His voice hardened. "This time, they won't take anyone from me."The next morning, Daniel returned to his family's company. The building had once been one of the busiest businesses in the city. Now half the offices were empty. Employees walked around quietly. Some looked worried whenever

Daniel did not sleep that night. Every time he closed his eyes, he heard his father's voice.The night your mother died.Then the call had ended.He sat at the dining table with the wooden box in front of him. The photograph. The necklace. The letter from his mother. Everything seemed to be connected to the number seventeen.But one thing bothered him most. His mother's letter had mentioned an organization. Daniel had read the letter several times, but there was one section he had avoided. He picked it up again.The paper was old and slightly yellow. His mother's handwriting was still clear.Daniel, if you are reading this, then something has gone wrong.He continued.There are people who have been watching our family for years. They are not interested in our money alone. They are interested in something your grandfather discovered.Daniel's eyes narrowed. He turned the page.Your grandfather called them the Circle. I never learned how many people belonged to it. I only knew that they