∆...∆
The cold air outside hit Rebecca Clarke like a warning.
She barely noticed it.
Her mind was already moving too fas, faster than her body, faster than her breath, faster than the quiet suburban street she stepped into. The morning sky hung low and grey, heavy with the promise of rain.
Everything felt normal. Too normal.
And that was what made it wrong.
Rebecca locked her door with shaking hands, then hesitated for a fraction of a second before heading down the pavement. Her thoughts kept circling back to the same things:
....2:13 AM.
The message.
Emily.
It couldn't be a coincidence.
It just couldn't.
Emily's house wasn't far.
A ten-minute walk, maybe less if she hurried and she did. Her shoes hit the pavement in quick, uneven steps, her breath shallow, her chest tight with something she couldn't name. Was it Fear?
Guilt?
Instinct? No one but her knew.
As she turned onto Emily's street, she slowed down.
Something was off.
There were people outside.
Not many, but enough.
Two neighbours stood near a gate, speaking in hushed voices. A woman across the street watched from behind her curtains, pretending not to stare.
And parked just ahead was a police car.
Rebecca stopped.
Her stomach dropped.
No.
No, no, no
She forced herself forward.
Each step felt heavier than the last.
"Excuse me," she said, her voice tight as she approached the two neighbours. "What happened here?"
They looked at her.
Then at each other.
That look.
The kind people share when they know something you don't.
"It's terrible," one of them said quietly. "Just terrible."
"What is?" Rebecca pressed. "This is my friend's house, Emily. What happened?"
The second neighbour hesitated before speaking.
"They say it happened late. Sometime in the night."
Rebecca's pulse pounded in her ears.
"What happened?"
The woman lowered her voice.
"There was… an incident."
Rebecca felt a flash of irritation.
"I gathered that. What kind of incident?"
Before the woman could answer, the front door of Emily's house opened.
A police officer stepped out.
Rebecca's attention snapped to him instantly.
He scanned the small crowd, his expression neutral but his eyes sharp.
Observing. Measuring. Almost as if he's being Sherlock Holmes for a minute.
When his gaze landed on Rebecca, something shifted.
"Miss," he called.
Her heart skipped.
"Yes?"
"Do you know the occupant of this house?"
Rebecca swallowed.
"Yes. Emily's my friend."
The officer nodded slowly, then stepped closer.
"I'm going to need you to come with me."
Her chest tightened.
"Why? What's going on? Is she okay?"
The officer didn't answer immediately.
And that silence, that silence said everything.
Inside, the house felt wrong.
Not messy.
Not chaotic.
Just… disturbed.
Like something had happened that didn't belong.
. Rebecca's eyes scanned everything automatically, the hallway, the staircase, the small details. A picture frame slightly crooked. A shoe lying where it shouldn't be.
Tiny things.
But they mattered.
They always did.
"Wait here," the officer said, gesturing toward the living room.
Rebecca stepped inside slowly.
And then she saw it.
A phone.
On the table.
Emily's phone.
The screen was cracked.
Her breath caught.
Without thinking, she moved closer.
The officer was speaking to someone behind her, distracted.
Just for a moment.
That was all she needed.
Rebecca reached out.
Picked up the phone.
The screen flickered weakly as she pressed a button.
There were missed calls.
Several.
All from unknown numbers.
Her heart began to race.
"No…" she whispered.
Then a message notification appeared.
Unread....
Her fingers trembled as she opened it.
Her breath stopped.
It was sent at 2:11 AM.
Two minutes before hers.
"You shouldn't have told her."
Rebecca froze.
A cold wave washed over her.
Told who?
Told what?
And then footsteps.
Close.
"Miss, I said..."
Rebecca quickly placed the phone back exactly where it was, stepping away just as the officer entered the room.
He studied her carefully.
"You shouldn't touch anything," he said.
"I didn't," Rebecca replied quickly.
A lie.
A necessary one.
The officer held her gaze for a moment longer than comfortable.
Then:
"When was the last time you spoke to Emily?" He asked.
Rebecca hesitated.
Her mind flashed back.
The message.
The time.
2:13 AM.
Her throat went dry.
"…Yesterday," she said finally.
The officer nodded slowly, but his eyes didn't leave her.
"Did anything seem… unusual?"
Rebecca's heart pounded.
Yes.
Everything.
But she shook her head.
"No."
Another lie.
The room felt colder now.
Smaller. Perhaps dangerous.
Because suddenly, Rebecca understood something she hadn't before:
This wasn't just about Emily.
This wasn't just about a message.
She was connected to this Somehow.
And worse, Someone knew it.
Outside, the sky finally broke.
Rain began to fall.
Soft at first.
Then heavier.
Like the world was trying to wash something away.
. . .. But some things didn't wash away.
They buried themselves deeper.
As Rebecca stepped back onto the street, her phone buzzed again.
She didn't want to look.
But she did.
Unknown Number.
Her chest tightened.
She opened it slowly.
"You went there.
That means you're already involved.
There's no turning back now."
Rebecca's hands went cold.
Her eyes lifted slowly, scanning the street.
The people. The windows. The cars.
Anyone could be watching.
Anyone could know.
And for the first time Rebecca felt it clearly.
She wasn't just investigating anymore.
She was being pulled in. By who or what, she couldn't wrap her head around.