The stranger’s smile sent a chill down my spine.
The entire ballroom seemed to freeze.
I looked from the police officer to the man standing in the doorway. Something about the way they stared at each other made my stomach drop.
“Who are you?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
The man ignored my question.
Instead, his eyes locked onto the dress my father had made from my mother’s wedding gown.
For a split second, his confident smile disappeared.
Then he laughed.
“So that’s where it ended up.”
My heart started racing.
“What do you mean?” I demanded.
The police officer stepped in front of me.
“You need to leave. Now.”
The stranger raised his hands casually.
“Relax, Officer. I’m just here to meet my daughter.”
The room erupted into shocked whispers.
My ears rang.
My daughter.
The words echoed inside my head.
Panic surged through me.
“What did you just say?”
The man looked directly into my eyes.
“I said you’re my daughter.”
I felt the floor disappear beneath me.
“No.”
My voice cracked.
“No, that’s impossible.”
My father had raised me my entire life. He was the one who stayed awake when I was sick. He was the one who worked double shifts to keep us fed. He was the one who spent nights sewing this dress together because he couldn’t bear seeing me miss prom.
The stranger took another step forward.
“Your mother never told you the truth, did she?”
The police officer’s jaw tightened.
“Stop talking.”
But the man continued.
“Ask yourself one question, Emma.”
I couldn’t breathe.
“Why would a police officer be carrying a message from your mother after all these years?”
The ballroom had become completely silent.
Even Mrs. Harper stood frozen, her face pale.
My hands trembled as I looked at the envelope.
The envelope my mother had supposedly left behind.
The envelope I still hadn’t opened.
The stranger pointed toward it.
“Go ahead.”
His voice became softer.
“Read what she wrote.”
The police officer suddenly grabbed the envelope before I could touch it.
“Not here.”
The stranger smirked.
“Too late.”
“What are you talking about?” I shouted.
The stranger’s eyes darkened.
“Because the person your mother was trying to protect you from…”
He paused.
My heart hammered violently against my chest.
“…is already standing in this room.”
A chill ran down my spine.
I slowly turned around.
Every student.
Every teacher.
Every chaperone.
Suddenly looked suspicious.
Then I heard someone gasp behind me.
The police officer’s face turned white.
The stranger stopped smiling.
And when I looked down at the envelope, I realized something horrifying.
Written across the back, in my mother’s handwriting, were six words:
DO NOT TRUST THE OFFICER.
To be continued in C0mments 👇
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