CHAP 3
CHAPTER 3
Ghost in the Database
The music ended to thunderous applause.
Rachel thanked the elderly gentleman with a warm smile before stepping away from the dance floor.
The whispers never stopped.
"Who is she?"
"I thought she was Carter's assistant."
"Did you see Richard Ashford bow to her?"
"Why would someone like him know an executive assistant?"
Elijah barely heard any of it.
His eyes followed Rachel wherever she went.
For the first time in three years, he wasn't seeing the oversized sweaters or the thick glasses. He was seeing the woman who had been standing only a few feet from him every single day.
How had he missed her?
Or had she simply never wanted to be seen?
Rachel made her way toward the balcony overlooking Manhattan.
The cold winter air was a welcome escape from the crowded ballroom.
"Beautiful view, isn't it?"
She turned.
Elijah stood behind her, hands in his pockets.
For several seconds, neither of them spoke.
Finally, he broke the silence.
"You look..."
He searched for the right word.
"...different."
Rachel smiled faintly.
"No."
She looked back at the city lights.
"I look exactly the same."
Elijah lowered his eyes.
"You know what I mean."
"I do."
Another long silence settled between them.
"I owe you an apology."
Rachel looked at him for the first time.
"Do you?"
His expression tightened.
"You heard everything."
"I did."
"I'm sorry."
Rachel studied his face carefully.
There was regret there.
Real regret.
But regret did not erase humiliation.
"Tell me something, Elijah."
"Anything."
"If I had walked into the office dressed like this every morning..."
She gestured toward the elegant gown.
"...would you have treated me differently?"
He didn't answer.
Because he couldn't.
His silence was all the answer she needed.
Rachel nodded gently.
"Good night, Mr. Carter."
She walked past him without another word.
For the first time in years...
Elijah Carter had no idea how to fix a problem.
The following morning, he couldn't stop thinking about her.
By noon, curiosity had replaced embarrassment.
He called the head of Human Resources.
"I need Rachel Bennett's employment file."
"It was already sent to your office."
"I need everything."
"This is everything."
"There has to be more."
"There isn't."
Elijah frowned.
"Background check?"
"Missing."
"University records?"
"Missing."
"Previous employment?"
"None."
"References?"
"Only one."
"Who?"
"A law firm."
He immediately called the firm.
The receptionist answered politely.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Carter."
"We have no client by that name."
He stared at his phone.
That was impossible.
Three hours later, Elijah contacted one of New York's most respected private investigators.
"I need everything on Rachel Bennett."
The investigator smiled confidently.
"Give me forty-eight hours."
Forty-eight hours later...
The investigator looked shaken.
"I've never seen anything like this."
Elijah leaned forward.
"What did you find?"
"Nothing."
"What do you mean, nothing?"
"I searched tax records."
"Medical records."
"University databases."
"Social media."
"Travel history."
"Property ownership."
"Everything."
"And?"
"It looks like Rachel Bennett didn't exist before five years ago."
Elijah's heartbeat slowed.
"That's impossible."
The investigator slid a thin folder across the desk.
"This..."
he said quietly,
"...is all that's left."
Inside the folder...
One photograph.
Taken nearly eight years earlier.
A runway.
Bright lights.
Fashion photographers.
At the center stood a breathtaking young woman in a white evening gown.
She looked strikingly familiar.
Only one line had been written on the back.
Isabella Laurent — Missing.
Elijah looked up sharply.
"Who is Isabella Laurent?"
May you like
The investigator slowly shook his head.
"I was hoping you could tell me."
