Don't trust your sister

I woke up with the phone in my hand.

The message was still there.

I’ll always find you.

I read it three times.

Then I deleted it.

I told myself I was crazy.

I told myself it was a scam.

I told myself Marcus was dead.

But I didn’t delete the number.

I made coffee. For one.

I fed Sofia breakfast. She was nine. She asked about Dad.

I said, "He’s watching us."

She smiled. I hated that I lied.

At school, I tried to teach.

I wrote on the board: Metaphor.

I couldn’t explain it.

All I could think about was: I miss your laugh.

My phone buzzed.

I looked.

New message: Don’t trust your sister.

My stomach dropped.

Lila. My sister.

She came to the funeral. She cried. She said she loved me.

But she also asked about Marcus’s life insurance.

Twice.

I typed back: Why?

No reply.

I put the phone away.

I tried to focus.

I failed.

After school, I went home.

Sofia was at a friend’s house.

The house was empty.

Too empty.

I checked the messages again.

Don’t trust your sister.

I called Lila.

She picked up on the first ring.

"Lena! You never call."

Her voice was bright. Too bright.

"Did you go to my house yesterday?" I asked.

"No. Why?"

I didn’t know why.

I just felt like someone was there.

Like the mug.

"Just checking," I said. "Love you."

"Love you too, sis."

I hung up.

My phone buzzed.

She’s lying.

I froze.

How do you know? I typed.

Because I saw her.

My hands shook.

You’re dead, I typed.

I’m not.

I put the phone down.

I walked to the window.

I looked outside.

No one.

But I felt watched.

I went to the bedroom.

His pillow was still there.

I touched it.

The phone buzzed.

Check the attic.

The attic.

We never went there.

Marcus said it was full of spiders.

He hated spiders.

I climbed the ladder.

Dust hit my face.

Boxes everywhere.

I opened one.

Old papers.

Bills.

A notebook.

Marcus’s handwriting.

I opened it.

If you’re reading this, I’m in danger.

My heart stopped.

The crime ring. They want me quiet. I have to disappear. I’ll text you. Don’t tell anyone.

I sat on the floor.

He knew.

He planned this.

He faked his death.

And he was talking to me.

The phone buzzed.

Did you find it?

I typed: Yes.

Don’t tell Lila. Don’t tell anyone. They are watching.

Who are they?

People who want to hurt you. I’ll keep you safe. But you have to trust me.

I looked at the notebook.

Then at the phone.

I typed: Why did you leave me?

The reply came slow.

Because I love you more than my life.

I cried.

I didn’t mean to.

But I did.

I typed: Come home.

I can’t. Not yet. But I will.

I put the notebook in my bag.

I climbed down.

I locked the attic.

I heard a car outside.

I looked out the window.

Lila’s car.

She was here.

I didn’t answer the door.

I hid in the kitchen.

She knocked.

"Lena? Are you home?"

I stayed quiet.

"Please open up. I’m worried about you."

I didn’t move.

The phone buzzed.

Don’t open the door.

I didn’t.

Lila left.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

I picked up the phone.

Thank you, I typed.

Always, he replied.

I sat on the floor.

The house was quiet again.

But it didn’t feel empty.

It felt like he was here.

I typed one last thing: I miss you.

I miss you more, he said.

I put the phone on my chest.

I closed my eyes.

For the first time in 43 days, I didn’t feel alone.

Question: If Marcus is hiding… why is Lila lying?

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