The Silent

TheManAtTheGate

Soule stood frozen in the middle of the hallway.

Her eyes remained fixed on the exit where the stranger had disappeared.

“Soule?”

Amelie's voice brought her back.

She blinked.

“What?”

“You've been staring at the door for almost a minute.”

Soule looked down at her phone.

The message was still there.

I'm closer than you think.

She quickly locked the screen.

“It's nothing.”

Amelie frowned.

“That doesn't look like nothing.”

Soule forced a smile.

“I just received a strange message.”

“From who?”

“I don't know. It's an unknown number.”

Amelie reached for her hand.

“Let me see.”

Soule hesitated.

Then she handed her the phone.

Amelie read the message.

Her expression immediately changed.

“This isn't funny.”

“I know.”

“Do you know who could be doing this?”

Soule looked away.

“No.”

It was a lie.

At least, she thought it was.

There was a name buried somewhere in her memory—a name she had refused to say for years.

Before Amelie could ask anything else, the school bell rang.

Students began moving toward their classrooms.

“We should go,” Soule whispered.

Amelie handed the phone back.

“I'm coming with you.”

“You don't have to.”

“I know.”

Amelie smiled.

“But I'm still coming.”

For the first time that morning, Soule felt a little less alone.

The rest of the school day passed slowly.

Soule tried to concentrate during class, but her mind kept returning to the photograph.

Who had sent the messages?

How did they know she still had it?

And why had the stranger been watching her?

She opened her notebook and tried to focus on the lesson.

But instead of writing down what the teacher was saying, she found herself drawing the same symbol over and over again.

A small circle with a line through the middle.

She stopped.

Her eyes widened.

She hadn't realized she was drawing it.

She quickly closed the notebook.

“Soule.”

She looked up.

The teacher was standing beside her desk.

“Are you with us?”

A few students laughed.

Soule nodded quickly.

“Yes, sir. I'm sorry.”

The teacher continued with the lesson.

Amelie leaned closer.

“What were you drawing?”

“Nothing.”

“You've said that a lot lately.”

Soule gave her a warning look.

Amelie raised both hands.

“Okay. I'll stop.”

But Soule knew she wouldn't.

And part of her was grateful.

After classes ended, Soule packed her books slowly.

Amelie waited by the door.

“Ready?”

“Almost.”

They walked out of the classroom together.

The school grounds were beginning to empty.

As they approached the main gate, Soule suddenly stopped.

Amelie turned.

“What is it?”

Soule didn't answer.

Across the road stood the same man from earlier.

He was leaning against a dark car.

Watching them.

Soule's heart began racing.

“That's him.”

“Who?”

“The man from this morning.”

Amelie looked across the road.

The man was gone.

Only the car remained.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Soule's voice shook.

“He was standing right there.”

Amelie looked at her carefully.

“Let's not stay here.”

They hurried away from the gate.

Neither of them noticed the figure watching them from inside the parked car.

That evening, Soule returned home earlier than usual.

She locked her bedroom door and pulled the photograph from her bag.

This time, she turned it over.

She studied the faces carefully.

Her mother.

Her aunt.

And herself.

But there was something she hadn't noticed before.

In the background of the photograph was a little boy.

Soule leaned closer.

Her breath caught.

She knew him.

She remembered him.

He had been there that day.

He had been there when everything happened.

Her hands began shaking.

Suddenly, her phone vibrated.

Another message.

She opened it.

You finally remembered.

Soule stared at the screen.

Another message appeared.

Ask your mother about Daniel.

Her heart sank.

Daniel.

She hadn't heard that name in years.

A memory suddenly flashed through her mind.

A little boy running through a garden.

Her own laughter.

Her aunt shouting.

Her mother crying.

Then darkness.

Soule dropped the phone onto the bed.

“No…”

Someone knocked on her bedroom door.

“Soule?”

Her mother's voice.

Soule froze.

“Can I come in?”

She looked at the photograph.

Then at the door.

For years, she had avoided asking questions.

But now someone was forcing the past back into her life.

She took a deep breath.

“Mom?”

“Yes?”

Soule swallowed.

“Who is Daniel?”

Silence.

Complete silence.

Her mother's breathing suddenly changed.

“Where did you hear that name?”

Soule's heart pounded.

She had never heard fear in her mother's voice like that before.

She slowly walked toward the door.

“Mom, who is Daniel?”

There was no answer.

Then she heard her mother whisper something that made her blood run cold.

“Where did you get that photograph?”

Soule looked down at the photograph in her hand.

She finally understood.

Her mother knew.

She had always known.

And whatever had happened years ago…

wasn't over.