Leila sighed and her eyes fell on Xander’s Bible. She had yet to open it.
Inside is everything you need to know.
She wasn’t sure how he meant it, whether he thought she needed some spiritual guidance or something else. With a deep breath, she dragged the leather book across the surface. A pang of sadness tightened her throat. If only it were her own.
She opened it to a random place in the middle. Passages had been highlighted and notes had been scribbled on the sides of the thin paper. Her pulse quickened as she glanced over the pages.
Without even being in the room, he held her captive. This was like gazing not only into his mind, but into his soul. It felt wrong. She was about to close the book, but as she briefly examined the page once more, a note he had written in a hurried scrawl along the outer side caught her eye.
~2100 We met with Soliman to discuss Papyrus.
Leila frowned as she read the verse next to it. His note had absolutely nothing to do with it. Had he been writing appointments in his Bible?
“Strange,” she whispered and flipped through the pages. Then she found another.
~2000 Sterling pulled over and asked me to get into car. I’ve never seen anyone so angry.
She did a double take. Sterling? Xander couldn’t possibly have meant her. “He met with Soliman and Dad about a papyrus.” She gasped. “He remembers.”
Sitting straight, she anxiously flipped the pages, hoping to come across more notes. Xander must have written down memories from the day of the accident as they came back to him. For some reason, unknown to Leila, he wrote them in his Bible. Maybe it had been the only paper around. Or not. But who would write lies into a Bible?
~2200 Soliman had translated the majority of the papyrus. The hieroglyphs in the corner had him stumped.
Leila sat back in her chair. “This is what he wanted to talk to me about. He had just waited until he remembered everything.” If only she hadn’t been so filled with anger toward him. If only she had given him the chance.
“I am such an idiot,” she growled and kept turning the pages, glancing over all his notes until she found another one. “Why’d I have to snap at him?” Sure, the news about Amir scared her. The policeman confused her. But she should have just stayed calm. Now it was too late.
~2000 Got in and told him where to go. Showed him where I hid the papyrus.
The ink changed color and texture throughout the pages and some of the events were out of order, indicating he had written things down with different pens over a longer period of time. Some of them were more detailed than others. She rummaged through her drawer and found a notebook, which she opened to a fresh page. She then began to copy down his notes to put them in an order that made sense.
~2200 Decided we would take the Papyrus to the British Museum that night where it would be properly preserved and eventually returned to Egypt.
~2215 I was to put the papyrus back into its transport. Some premonition came to mind. What if we were followed? What if Weston tried to get it back? While Soliman and Sterling talked, I cut off the corner with the untranslated hieroglyphs, hid it behind the photograph on his desk.
~2230 Sterling’s hired car wouldn’t start. We took my car and started for London.
As she flipped through more pages, a slip of paper fell out from between the delicate leaves. The paper was crisp and the ink was bright and bold, unlike the notes written in the Bible. Leila held it up, wondering if it had been written recently, then began to read.
~2300 Sterling told me to stay in the car but I got out anyway. My car was ruined. A deer lay on the side of the road ahead of us. I yelled at the driver of the other car parked ahead of us—Weston—for trying to kill us. He pulled a gun and demanded the papyrus be returned to him. Sterling got out, told Weston to put the gun away and leave me out of this. The passenger door of Weston’s vehicle opened and someone else got out. I still can’t see a face.
She focused on the slip of paper, even though she wasn’t seeing the words anymore. Weston. Of Weston Manor? She shook her head to snap out of her daze. After a few more minutes of searching through the thin pages, she decided the notes must have ended there.
Stunned, she read the notes over and over. No wonder he’d seemed so different that morning. He was innocent, yet she had blamed him all these years. And again today. Her head dropped into her hands as she recalled being in the basement of the manor. She’d been too distracted by all the artifacts to notice what Xander was doing.
Of course, the Westons had also told the police nothing was missing. If they had said anything, Mr. Weston would have eventually been arrested for possession of stolen property. That would have been motivation enough to get rid of witnesses as well.
Weston had a weapon. He had been willing to resort to violence to get what he wanted. Despite the fact her father didn’t have any gunshot wounds, everything now pointed to Weston as responsible. But who was the other person? She picked up her phone, debating whether to send a text to Mark, when Emma burst into the room.
“Oh my gosh,” Emma gushed, clutching a fist to her chest.
Leila swiveled around and raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong?”
“Xander’s gone! You must be so relieved!”
“Oh yeah. Well, I—”
“Finally, peace,” Emma sighed as she climbed into bed. “I wonder why he left. You know, he doesn’t make the impression of being very reliable. Although, Soliman kind of shrugged it off when I asked him about it. So random.” She peered down at her from the top bunk. “What are you working on this late?”
Leila snapped her notebook shut. She would get to the bottom of this. First, she had to find Xander. Then she had to talk to Weston. “Just a new project for winter break.”
• • •
The next day started early, like any other. Leila walked through the darkness with a small group of her colleagues toward the tent. She made a mental note to herself to say goodbye to Karl—he was leaving that afternoon after work. She wondered with a smile if he’d be able to find his proof of aliens before the day was over. He’d already been positive one of Neferkheri’s daggers was made of meteorite. But only the tests would be able to tell.
As they neared the excavation site, echoes of shouts drifted across the necropolis. Leila exchanged a confused glance with the others. It sounded as if the commotion were coming from the tomb. Together, the group picked up their pace down the gravel path.
Finally, they rounded the last corner and the tomb entrance came into view. Several reporters spoke hurriedly into their microphones from behind the barricade. Soliman shouted at the security guards, flailing his arms.
“He’s going to give himself another heart attack,” Emma groaned.
Leila spotted Soliman, his face glowing red under the floodlights.
What was going on? Had a few reporters wandered too close? But Soliman, the guards, the excited chatter… it must be something more than that. She decided to play it safe and find Karl.
Leila caught sight of him as he started to duck into the tent. She called out and jogged over before he could disappear.
He waited for her at the entrance. As she drew nearer, she saw his face was ashen.
