Writers 
Chapter 7: The Photograph
Amara couldn't stop thinking about the message.
Daniel isn't the one you should be worried about.
She looked at Zara across the road.
Zara was still watching her.
Amara wanted to go over and ask her what was going on, but Zara suddenly turned and walked away.
“Wait!”
Amara started following her.
But before she could catch up, Zara disappeared into the crowd.
Amara stopped.
She looked around, but Zara was nowhere to be seen.
She sighed and started walking home.
On her way home, she kept thinking about everything that had happened.
First, the messages.
Then Daniel.
Now Zara.
Everyone seemed to know something about her past except her.
And that was starting to scare her.
When she got home, she went straight to her room.
She dropped her bag on the floor and sat on her bed.
For a few minutes, she just stared at the wall.
Then she remembered the old photograph.
Amara opened her bag and took it out.
She placed it on the bed and looked at it carefully.
There was something about the picture that didn't feel right.
She picked up her phone and took a clear picture of it.
Then she zoomed in.
She looked at herself.
Then Zara.
Then Daniel.
She suddenly stopped.
There was someone else in the picture.
Amara moved closer to the phone.
“Wait…”
There was a girl standing behind them.
Her face was partly hidden, but Amara could still see her eyes.
The girl looked familiar.
Amara zoomed in again.
She couldn't remember seeing her before.
She searched through her old pictures.
There were pictures of her classmates, school events and some pictures she had taken with her friends.
After a few minutes, she found something.
Amara's eyes widened.
The same girl was in another picture.
She was standing beside Amara.
Amara stared at the picture.
“I don't remember this.”
She checked the date.
It was from the same week she left her old school.
Amara became quiet.
Why couldn't she remember the girl?
She picked up the old photograph again and turned it over.
There was something written on the back.
A date.
And underneath it was a name.
Mia.
Amara stared at the name.
“Mia…”
She said it again.
The name sounded familiar.
But she couldn't remember where she had heard it before.
Suddenly, someone knocked on her door.
Amara quickly turned the photograph over.
“Who is it?”
“It's me,” her mother said.
Amara put the photograph under her pillow.
“Come in.”
Her mother entered the room.
“You've been in here for a long time.”
“I was just resting.”
Her mother looked at her.
“Are you sure?”
Amara nodded.
“Yes.”
Her mother smiled.
“Dinner is ready.”
“I'll come down soon.”
Her mother left.
Amara waited until the door closed.
Then she took the photograph out again.
She looked at the name.
Mia.
She knew she had heard that name before.
But where?
Her phone suddenly vibrated.
Amara looked at the screen.
It was a message from Zara.
“You found the picture, didn't you?”
Amara froze.
How did Zara know?
She quickly typed:
“How do you know?”
She waited.
A few seconds later, Zara replied.
“Because I knew you would find it.”
Amara stared at the message.
She typed again.
“Who is Mia?”
This time, Zara didn't reply.
Amara waited for a few minutes.
Then another message appeared.
“Don't show the picture to your mother.”
Amara's heart started beating faster.
Why didn't Zara want her mother to see it?
Before Amara could reply, another message came.
“Mia is the reason everything started.”
Amara slowly put down her phone.
She looked at the photograph again.
Something was coming back to her.
A classroom.
Someone crying.
Zara shouting.
Then everything went blank again.
Amara closed her eyes.
She didn't know what happened that day.
But now she knew one thing.
Mia was part of it.
And somehow, Zara knew the truth.
Amara picked up her phone and looked at Zara's message one more time.
She knew she couldn't keep running from her past.
This time, she was going to find out what really happened.