Chapter Two — The Stranger
482 Words
I didn’t tell anyone about the diary.
Not my best friend. Not my family.
No one.
How do you explain something that doesn’t make sense?
“Hey, I found an old diary, and somehow my name is written inside it.”
I would sound crazy.
So I did the only thing I could do.
I went back to the bookshop.
The rain had stopped, but the streets were still wet when I arrived. The little bell above the door rang as I entered.
The old man behind the counter looked up.
“Back again?” he asked.
I forced a smile.
“Yeah. I have a question about a book I bought yesterday.”
His expression changed.
Not a lot.
It's just enough for me to notice.
“What book?”
I placed it on the counter.
His eyes immediately went to the diary.
For a moment, he said nothing.
Then he whispered,
“Where did you get that?”
I frowned.
“Inside the book.”
The old man stepped back.
“That diary shouldn’t be with you.”
My stomach dropped.
“What do you mean?”
Before he could answer, the bell above the door rang.
Someone walked in.
A man.
Tall. Quiet. Dressed in a black jacket.
His eyes moved around the shop until they landed on me.
Then they landed on the diary.
And something changed in his face.
Fear.
Not a surprise.
Fear.
“Put it away,” he said.
I looked at him.
“Excuse me?”
“I said, put it away.”
I held the diary closer.
“Who are you?”
He ignored my question.
“You don’t understand what you found.”
I laughed nervously.
“And you do?”
He walked closer.
The old man behind the counter looked uncomfortable.
“Daniel…”
The stranger stopped.
So his name was Daniel.
Daniel looked at me.
“Give me the diary, Amara.”
My entire body froze.
How did he know my name?
“How do you know who I am?”
For the first time, his confidence disappeared.
He looked like he had made a mistake.
A very big one.
“I—”
“You know my name,” I said slowly. “You know this diary. What is going on?”
He didn’t answer.
And that scared me more than anything.
Because silence was sometimes a confession.
I stepped back.
“Who are you?”
Daniel looked at the diary in my hand.
Then at me.
And his next words changed everything.
“My family has been looking for that diary for twenty years.”
My heart started beating faster.
“Why?”
He stared at me.
“Because the person who wrote it disappeared.”
I swallowed.
“Who was she?”
Daniel’s eyes darkened.
And when he answered, I wished I never asked.
“Your mother.
- Writer
