I woke up the next morning with one thought in my head.
The notebook.
I needed to find it. I didn't know why. I didn't know what was in it. But something in my chest told me it was important. That it held the key to everything.
I got dressed quickly. Today, I chose something different. A soft blue sweater Sophie would probably approve of. Jeans. Simple shoes. When I looked in the mirror, I didn't see the CEO from the photos. I saw someone else. Someone trying to find her way back.
Lucas was waiting in the living room when I walked out. He was holding two cups of coffee. One black for him. One with cream for me.
"You're dressed differently," he said.
"I have a mission today."
He raised an eyebrow. "What kind of mission?"
I took my coffee from his hand. "I'm going to find my notebook."
---
We started in my office.
Maggie met us there, her tablet clutched to her chest. She'd already cleared my schedule for the morning. I hadn't asked her to. She just knew.
"The notebook," she said. "I've been thinking about it all night."
"Did you ever see me with it? After everything?"
Maggie's face crumpled slightly. "Once. After you came out of your office. You were holding it. Your hands were shaking." She paused. "I asked if you were okay. You looked at me like you didn't recognize me. Then you walked away."
I felt a pang in my chest. "Where did I go?"
"To your apartment, I think. You went home that night. And when you came back the next morning..." She shook her head. "The notebook was gone."
I looked around my office. Shelves full of books. Files stacked neatly. Awards lining the walls.
"Help me look," I said.
---
We searched for an hour.
Lucas checked the shelves. Maggie went through the filing cabinets. I opened every drawer, every box, every hidden compartment I could find.
Nothing.
I sat on the floor in the middle of my office, surrounded by papers I didn't understand, feeling defeated.
"It's not here," I said.
Maggie knelt beside me. "There are other places. Your apartment. Your father's old house. The café maybe."
"Marlene would have said something."
"Maybe she didn't know it was important."
I thought about that. Marlene had seen me write in the notebook. But that was before. Before Alexander. Before everything fell apart.
What if I'd left it somewhere else? Somewhere no one would think to look?
I stood up suddenly. "The apartment. I want to search the apartment."
---
The penthouse was huge.
Too huge. Every room was another maze of expensive things I didn't remember buying. I started in the bedroom, pulling open drawers, checking under the bed, searching every corner.
Lucas worked the living room. Kevin had shown up to help, claiming he needed a break from coding. Sophie came too, saying she wanted to see where the CEO lived.
"Your apartment is insane," Sophie said, spinning slowly in the middle of the living room. "This couch probably costs more than my entire apartment."
"Help me look," I said.
She snapped to attention. "Right. Sorry. Notebook. Red. Got it."
We searched for another hour.
Kevin checked the kitchen cabinets. Sophie went through the guest rooms. Lucas pulled books off the shelves in the study, checking behind them.
I was in the closet, going through boxes I didn't recognize, when I found something.
It wasn't the notebook.
It was a shoebox. Old. Dusty. Hidden at the back of a shelf behind a row of designer handbags.
I pulled it out. The lid was loose. I opened it.
Inside were photographs. Dozens of them. Old ones, from before I could remember. A little girl on a swing. A young woman in a cap and gown. A man with gray hair and kind eyes, the same man from the photo in my office.
My father.
I touched the photo carefully. His face was warm. Happy. His arm was around my shoulder. In the photo, I was laughing.
"You found something?"
I looked up. Lucas was standing in the doorway of the closet. His eyes moved from the shoebox to my face, and something in his expression softened.
"Pictures of my dad," I said.
He walked over and sat beside me. Close enough to see, far enough to give me space.
"I never knew him," I said. "I mean, I must have. He was my father. But I don't remember anything."
Lucas was quiet for a moment. "What do you see when you look at the photos?"
I studied them. The little girl on the swing. Her father pushing her. Her face bright with joy.
"I see someone who was happy once," I said. "Someone who knew how to laugh. Someone who wasn't cold."
"Maybe that's who you really are."
I looked at him. "What if I can't find her again?"
His eyes held mine. "She's right there." He touched the photo gently. "In every picture. In every memory you're about to uncover. She never left, Vivian. She just got buried."
I stared at the photos. At the girl I used to be. At the father I'd lost.
"I miss him," I said. "I don't remember him, but I miss him."
Lucas didn't say anything. He just sat beside me, letting me feel what I needed to feel.
---
We didn't find the notebook that day.
But I found something else. A piece of myself I didn't know was missing.
That night, I spread all the photos across my bed. My father. Me. The two of us, together, before everything got complicated.
I picked one up. A picture of my father standing in front of the Chen Group building. The same building I walked into yesterday. He was smiling. Proud.
I turned it over. There was writing on the back.
Chen Group. Built for you, Vivian. Love, Dad.
Tears filled my eyes.
I held the photo to my chest and lay back on the bed. The ceiling above me was high. The room was quiet. But I didn't feel alone.
Somewhere out there, my father was watching. Somewhere out there, the woman I used to be was waiting to come home.
And somewhere out there, a red notebook was holding all the answers.
I would find it. I would find all of it.
And when I did, I would make him proud.