Chapter 6
1859 Words
Isla’s POV
The words stayed in my head long after Noelle left the café.
Someone who wanted us apart.
I had heard the sentence before, but somehow it felt different now. Maybe because for ten years, I had believed our story ended with Noelle choosing to leave me. I had spent so much time blaming her that I never stopped to wonder if there had been another story hiding underneath the one I knew.
I stared at the folder she had left on the counter.
It was still there.
Waiting.
I hadn’t opened it.
Amara stood behind me, watching silently.
“You don’t have to do this to tonight,” she said.
“I know.”
“You can throw it away.”
I looked at the folder.
“No.”
“Then you can wait until you’re ready.”
I swallowed.
“I’ve been waiting for ten years.”
Amara didn’t say anything after that.
She didn’t need to.
I reached for the folder.
My hands were shaking.
It was ridiculous. It was just paper. Just photographs and old documents and whatever explanation Noelle had spent ten years carrying around.
But to me, it wasn’t paper.
It was ten years of unanswered questions.
I opened it.
The first thing I saw was a photograph.
Noelle and me.
I recognized the picture immediately.
We were eighteen.
I was wearing the white shirt she always stole from me, and Noelle was laughing so hard that her eyes were almost closed. We were sitting on the floor of my bedroom, surrounded by books and empty cups of coffee.
I remembered that day.
We had spent the entire afternoon planning our future.
We were going to travel together.
We were going to open a business someday.
We were going to have a home near the ocean.
We were going to grow old together.
At eighteen, forever sounded easy.
I turned the photograph over.
There was handwriting on the back.
Noelle’s.
We really thought we had forever, didn’t we?
My throat tightened.
I put the photograph down and reached for the next piece of paper.
It was an old letter.
The paper had yellowed around the edges.
My name was written on the front.
Isla Rivera.
I froze.
“What’s that?” Amara asked.
“I don’t know.”
I turned it over.
The envelope had never been opened.
There was no stamp.
No postmark.
Nothing to indicate that it had ever left wherever it had been kept.
My heart began beating faster.
“Isla?”
I slowly opened it.
The handwriting inside was unmistakable.
Noelle.
I read the first line.
Isla,
I stopped.
My vision blurred.
I blinked several times and forced myself to continue.
I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing.
My fingers tightened around the paper.
I keep telling myself that leaving is the only way to protect you, but every part of me is screaming that I’m making the biggest mistake of my life.
I stopped reading.
I couldn’t.
Not yet.
I put the letter down and stared at it.
Amara reached toward it but didn’t touch it.
“Was this written before she left?”
“I think so.”
“Then why didn’t you get it?”
I looked at the envelope.
“That’s what I want to know.”
I picked it up again.
There were more pages inside.
This time, I read everything.
You asked me once why I always stare at the sunset.
I told you that beautiful things don’t have to last forever to be meaningful.
But I lied.
I don’t want us to be something beautiful that ends.
My eyes filled with tears.
I want the mornings with you. I want the boring days. I want the arguments about stupid things. I want to know what you look like when you’re old. I want to complain when you leave your books everywhere. I want to drink coffee with you even when you make it too sweet.
A small laugh escaped me despite myself.
Then I read the next paragraph.
I love you, Isla. I’m sorry that I don’t know how to choose us without putting you in danger.
My chest hurt.
If I disappear, please don’t think it was because I stopped loving you.
I stopped.
That sentence.
Those exact words.
The words I had needed ten years ago.
My hands trembled.
Amara quietly took the letter from me when she saw that I couldn’t continue.
She read the rest.
I looked away.
I didn’t want her to see my face.
I didn’t want anyone to see what that letter was doing to me.
Because for ten years, I had told myself that Noelle left without looking back.
But this letter proved that she had been hurting too.
And somehow, that didn’t make me feel better.
It made everything worse.
“Isla,” Amara whispered.
“What?”
“There’s a date.”
I turned toward her.
She pointed to the bottom of the letter.
I looked.
June 17, 2016.
The day before Noelle disappeared.
My heart sank.
“That’s the night before.”
Amara nodded.
I stared at the date.
Then something caught my attention.
There was another line beneath Noelle’s signature.
If you don’t hear from me, ask Celeste.
I looked at Amara.
She looked back at me.
“Celeste knew.”
I didn’t answer.
The room suddenly felt too small.
My entire body became cold.
For ten years, Celeste Reyes had known something.
Maybe not everything.
But something.
And she had never told me.
⸻
I called her.
Once.
No answer.
Twice.
Still nothing.
The third time, she picked up.
“Isla?”
Her voice sounded tired.
I didn’t bother with hello.
“Did you know?”
Silence.
That was all the confirmation I needed.
“Celeste.”
“I knew you’d eventually find out.”
My stomach dropped.
“Find out what?”
She sighed.
“Where are you?”
“The café.”
Don’t do this over the phone.”
“I’ve been waiting for ten years, Celeste.”
My voice cracked.
“I think I’ve waited long enough.”
Another silence.
Then she said quietly, “Come to my house.”
⸻
Celeste lived on the other side of town.
I drove there with Amara beside me.
Neither of us spoke much.
My mind was running through every possibility.
What had Celeste known?
What had Noelle been afraid of?
And most importantly—
who had wanted us apart?
When we arrived, Celeste was already waiting outside.
She looked at me for a long moment.
There was guilt in her eyes.
I hated it.
Because guilt meant she knew.
She had known.
“You should have told me.” I said.
Celeste looked down.
“I know.”
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
She looked at me.
“What?”
“I know.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Noelle say it. You say it. Everyone knows what happened except me.”
Celeste flinched.
I immediately regretted the harshness in my voice.
But I couldn’t take it back.
She opened the door.
“Come inside.”
Amara placed a hand on my shoulder.
“I’ll wait in the car.”
I looked at her.
She gave me a small nod.
“You can do this.”
I wasn’t sure I could.
But I walked inside anyway.
Celeste led me to the living room.
She sat across from me.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then she finally said, “Noelle didn’t want to leave you.”
“I know.”
“She wanted to tell you.”
“I know.”
“She wrote you letters.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
Celeste’s eyes filled with regret.
“More than one.”
I stared at her.
“What do you mean, more than one?”
“She wrote to you after she left.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“How many?”
Celeste didn’t answer.
“Celeste.”
“Dozens.”
My breath caught.
“Dozens?”
“She wrote whenever she couldn’t handle the guilt. Birthdays. Holidays. Your birthday. Her birthday. The anniversary of the date you met.”
I stared at her.
“Where are they?”
Celeste looked away.
“Most of them were never sent.”
“Why?”
She swallowed.
“Because Noelle was afraid.”
“Afraid of what?”
“Your father.”
I frowned.
“My father?”
Celeste nodded.
“He wasn’t the one person involved.”
My heart started pounding.
“What are you talking about?”
Celeste stood and walked toward a cabinet.
She opened it and pulled out a small box.
She placed it on the table.
My eyes immediately went to the handwriting on the top.
Noelle.
I looked at Celeste.
“What is this?”
“Everything Noelle can’t say.”
My fingers moved toward the box.
Before I could open it, Celeste spoke again.
“There is something you need to understand, Isla.”
I looked up.
“Noelle didn’t leave because her father threatened her.”
My hand froze.
Celeste’s eyes met mine.
“He threatened you.”
I couldn’t breathe.
“What?”
“He told Noelle that if she didn’t disappear, he would make sure your family lost everything.”
I stared at her.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It does when you know what happened next.”
“What happened?
Celeste’s expression changed.
And for the first time, I saw fear.
“Someone sent your father evidence that made it look like Noelle’s family had been betrayed by yours.”
My mind went blank.
“Betrayed?”
Celeste nodded.
“Someone created a story that made both families turned each other.”
I stared at the box.
“What story?”
Celeste hesitated.
Then she said the words that made my blood run cold.
“They told Noelle that you had been secretly working with someone close to her family.”
I shook my head.
“That’s impossible.”
“I know.”
“Who?”
Celeste looked at me.
“We never found out.”
I stared at her.
Ten years.
Ten years of believing Noelle simply abandoned me.
Ten years of believing I wasn’t worth staying for.
And now I was discovering that our separation might have been built on a lie.
I opened the box.
Inside were letters.
Photographs.
Old messages.
Documents.
And at the very bottom was a photograph of someone I knew.
My entire body went still.
I picked it up.
My heart stopped.
Because standing beside Noelle’s father in the photograph was someone I never expected to see.
Someone who had been beside me throughout the entire aftermath of Noelle’s disappearance.
Someone I had trusted.
Someone who had watched me cry for years.
Someone who knew exactly how much I missed her.
I looked at Celeste.
“Why is Amara’s father in this photograph?”
Celeste’s face went pale.
And suddenly, neither of us spoke.
Because the person who wanted Isla and Noelle apart might have been much closer than either of them ever imagined.
- Writer
