Daniel didn’t answer.
Then I checked my purse and saw that my wallet was still there. My cash and bank cards were inside too.
I was beginning to think I had simply scared myself when I noticed something strange.
A small key was missing from an inner pocket.
It was the key to the safe in my apartment.
I had never told anyone about that safe except my children.
Inside were my mother’s jewelry, the documents for my apartment, and cash I had been saving for years.
A chill ran through me.
But how could Daniel possibly have known about the safe?
I immediately called a taxi and rushed home.
When I reached my floor, the apartment door was closed. The lock appeared untouched.
I opened the door and hurried into the bedroom.
The safe was empty.
The money, jewelry, and several important documents were gone.
I was about to call the police when I noticed another photograph on the table.
This time, it was a picture of Daniel.
But standing beside him was someone I knew very well.
My own son.
The photograph had been taken several weeks earlier.
On the back, someone had written an address and a time, along with the words:
“Your son arranged all of this.”
I stared at the message, unable to believe it.
The most terrifying part wasn’t even that a stranger had taken advantage of my loneliness and robbed me.
Far worse was realizing that our meeting at the bar probably hadn’t been a coincidence at all.
Daniel had known who I was before he ever approached my table.
Which meant that someone very close to me had helped him stage the entire thing.