Writers 
Amara stood in front of Zara, waiting for her to answer.
“Who else lied to me?” she asked again.
Zara looked away and played with the strap of her schoolbag. She looked like she wanted to say something, but the words were not coming out.
“Zara, please,” Amara said, her voice shaking a little. “I'm tired of everyone keeping things from me. First, you told me you left Mia that night because she asked you to. Now you're saying Daniel told you to leave. How am I supposed to know when you're telling the truth?”
Zara looked at her.
“I know you don't trust me right now,” she said quietly. “And honestly, I understand why. But there's something you need to know.”
“Then tell me.”
Zara opened her mouth, but before she could speak, the school bell rang.
Students began walking past them, laughing and talking as they headed to their classrooms. Amara watched Zara glance around nervously.
“Not here,” Zara whispered.
Amara let out a frustrated breath. “You always say that. Not here, not now, not today. When exactly are you going to tell me everything?”
“After school,” Zara promised. “Meet me near the old library. I'll tell you what I can.”
Amara wanted to argue, but she was already late for class. She picked up her bag and walked away without saying another word.
Throughout the morning, she could barely concentrate. Her teacher asked her a question, and she didn't even realize the whole class was looking at her until someone gently tapped her desk.
“Amara, are you okay?” the girl beside her whispered.
“I'm fine,” Amara replied quickly.
But she wasn't fine. Too many questions were running through her mind.
Who had lied to her? Why was Daniel involved? And why did Zara look so afraid whenever they talked about that night?
During lunch, Amara sat alone near the classroom window. She took out her phone and looked at the anonymous messages again.
Ask your mother first.
Zara still hasn't told you everything.
But Zara wasn't the only one who lied.
She read the last message several times.
For some reason, the words made her think about her mother.
Amara shook her head. She didn't want to believe her mother had anything to do with what happened to Mia. Her mother had always protected her, or at least that was what Amara believed.
Just then, her phone vibrated.
An unknown number had sent another message.
“You are looking at the wrong people.”
Amara sat up straight.
Before she could reply, another message came in.
“The person you're searching for has been closer to you than you think.”
Her heart began beating faster.
“Who are you?” she typed.
The message showed as delivered, but no reply came.
Amara stared at the screen, feeling a strange mixture of fear and anger. Whoever was sending these messages knew things that even she couldn't remember.
When school finally ended, Amara went straight to the old library.
Zara was already there, standing beside the wall with her arms folded. She looked worried.
“You came,” Zara said.
“You promised to tell me something.”
Zara nodded slowly. “I did.”
Amara stepped closer. “Who is the person behind all this?”
Zara took a deep breath.
“I don't know if this person started everything, but I know they helped keep the truth hidden.”
“Who?”
Zara looked straight into Amara's eyes.
“Someone from your old life. Someone who knew Mia. Someone who had a reason to make sure you never remembered what happened that night.”
Amara felt her stomach tighten.
“Was it Daniel?”
“No,” Zara replied. “Daniel made mistakes, but he wasn't the person Mia was most afraid of.”
“Then who was Mia afraid of?”
Zara hesitated.
“She told me she had discovered something about someone we trusted. She said that if the truth came out, everything would change.”
Amara swallowed hard. “Why didn't you tell me this before?”
“Because I was scared,” Zara admitted. “I thought if I stayed quiet, things would eventually go back to normal. But they never did.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Zara reached into her bag and brought out a small folded piece of paper.
“I found this in my old notebook a few weeks ago,” she said. “I think Mia gave it to me before that night.”
Amara carefully took the paper and opened it.
There were only two sentences written on it.
“If Amara asks what happened, don't let her trust the story her family tells her.”
Amara read the words again, unable to believe what she was seeing.
“My family?” she whispered.
Zara nodded, looking deeply sorry.
“I didn't know what it meant at first. I still don't know everything. But after the messages you showed me, I think Mia was trying to warn us.”
Amara's hands trembled slightly as she folded the paper.
Her family had always been the one place where she felt safe. Now, even that feeling was beginning to disappear.
Before she could ask another question, her phone vibrated again.
This time, the message was shorter.
“Ask your mother about the night Mia came to your house.”
Amara stopped breathing for a moment.
Mia had come to her house?
She searched her memory, but nothing came back. No clear picture. No conversation. Nothing.
She slowly raised her eyes to Zara.
“Did you know Mia came to my house?”
Zara looked shocked.
“No,” she whispered. “I didn't know that.”
Amara stared at the message, her mind racing.
If Mia had been to her house that night, then her mother might know much more than she had admitted.
And suddenly, Amara understood something that frightened her more than any anonymous message.
The person hiding the truth might not be someone from her school at all.
It might be someone waiting for her at home.