THE GIRL WHO DISAPPEARED AT MIDNIGHT

THE GIRL WHO DISAPPEARED AT MIDNIGHT CHAPTER 1 — THE MESSAGE THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING Some secrets are buried for a reason. And sometimes, the person you trust the most is the one you should fear. At exactly 11:47 p.m., Amara received a message from her best friend. There was only one problem. Her best friend had been dead for three days. Amara stared at her phone, unable to understand what she was seeing. The message was short. Amara, if you are reading this, it means they have found me. Whatever happens, do not trust Daniel. And please, whatever you do, do not go to the police. Her hands began to tremble. Daniel was her boyfriend. The man who had held her while she cried at her best friend's funeral. The man who had promised that he would never leave her side. The man who had spent the entire evening telling her that she needed to accept the fact that her friend was gone. Now, someone was using that dead girl's number to warn her against him. Amara swallowed hard and checked the sender's number. It was Jessica's number. She knew it by heart. For three years, she had called that number almost every day. She had sent it birthday messages, shared secrets through it, and cried over the phone when life became unbearable. Three days earlier, Amara had watched Jessica's mother collapse outside the hospital after doctors announced that her daughter was gone. Jessica had reportedly died in a car accident. The police said she lost control of her vehicle on a lonely road late at night. There were no witnesses, and the car had caught fire before emergency workers arrived. The body had been badly burned, but the authorities said identification had been confirmed. Amara had attended the funeral. She had seen the coffin lowered into the ground. So how could Jessica be messaging her? Her phone vibrated again. Another message appeared. You have ten minutes. Check beneath your bed. Amara immediately looked toward her bedroom door. She lived alone in a small two-bedroom apartment on the outskirts of the city. The building was quiet at night, and the only sound she could hear was the distant hum of a generator from the neighboring compound. She looked at the time. 11:48 p.m. Her heart began to pound. She wanted to dismiss the message as a cruel prank. Perhaps someone had stolen Jessica's phone. Perhaps one of her friends had decided to play a terrible joke. But something about the words frightened her. Jessica knew things about Amara that nobody else knew. Things about her family. Things about her childhood. And one particular secret that Amara had never shared with Daniel. She slowly climbed out of bed. The room was dark except for the light from her phone. She switched on the bedside lamp and looked around. Everything appeared normal. Her handbag sat on the dressing table. Her shoes were beside the wardrobe. A half-empty bottle of water stood near the window. Nothing seemed out of place. Then she remembered the message. Check beneath your bed. Amara knelt down. At first, she saw only dust and an old pair of slippers. Then her fingers touched something. A small brown envelope. She pulled it out. Her name was written across the front in Jessica's handwriting. AMARA. She recognized the handwriting immediately. Jessica had a habit of writing her letters in capital letters whenever she wanted to make something important. Amara sat on the floor and opened the envelope. Inside was a photograph. It showed Jessica standing beside a black car. A man stood next to her, his face partly hidden by the shadow of a building. Amara's breath caught in her throat. She knew that car. It belonged to Daniel. She turned the photograph over. Five words had been written on the back. ASK HIM WHAT HAPPENED THAT NIGHT. Which night? Amara searched her memory, trying to understand what Jessica had meant. Then she noticed something else inside the envelope. A folded piece of paper. She opened it with shaking hands. The message was written in the same handwriting. If anything happens to me, remember the night we went to the old hotel. Daniel was there before you arrived. He told me something about your father. I should have told you the truth then, but I was afraid. Amara stopped breathing for a moment. Her father had died when she was twelve. At least, that was what her mother had always told her. According to the story Amara had grown up hearing, her father had been involved in a road accident while traveling for work. His body had been buried in their hometown, and the family had tried to move forward. Amara barely remembered him. She remembered his deep voice, his large hands, and the way he used to carry her on his shoulders. But she had never questioned the circumstances surrounding his death. Until now. Why would Daniel know something about her father? And why had Jessica been afraid to tell her? Her phone vibrated again. This time, it was a call. The screen displayed Daniel's name. Amara stared at it. For a moment, she considered answering. She wanted to demand an explanation. She wanted to ask him whether he knew about the photograph and what Jessica had meant. But she remembered the first message. Do not trust Daniel. She allowed the call to ring until it stopped. Almost immediately, a text arrived. Baby, are you awake? I need to talk to you. Another message followed. Please answer me. Something has happened. Amara frowned. What could have happened? She typed a reply. What happened? The response came almost instantly. I will explain everything when I get there. Amara's stomach tightened. When he got there? She looked at the clock. 11:53 p.m. Then she heard a sound outside her apartment. A car door slammed. She hurried to the window and carefully pulled the curtain aside. A black car was parked near the entrance to her building. Her heart seemed to stop. It was Daniel's car. She watched as he stepped out, looked around the compound, and walked toward the building. He was carrying something in his right hand. Amara couldn't see what it was. She released the curtain and backed away from the window. Her phone rang again. Daniel. This time, she answered without speaking. "Amara?" His voice sounded unusually calm. "Are you inside?" She pressed her lips together. "Why are you coming here?" There was a brief silence. Then he said, "Because I know what Jessica sent you." Amara felt the blood drain from her face. She hadn't told him about the messages. She hadn't told anybody. "How do you know about Jessica?" she whispered. Daniel sighed. "Listen to me carefully. Whatever she told you, don't believe it." "Jessica is dead, Daniel." "I know." "Then how do you know she sent me anything?" Another silence. This time, it lasted longer. When Daniel finally spoke, his voice had changed. "Open the door, Amara." "No." "Please. We don't have much time." "Time for what?" She heard footsteps approaching her apartment. Slow, deliberate footsteps. Then came three knocks. KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK. Amara backed away from the door. "Daniel, what do you want?" "Open the door, and I will explain everything." She glanced at the photograph still lying on the floor. Jessica beside Daniel's car. The mysterious message about her father. The warning not to trust him. Then she heard something that made her blood run cold. Daniel spoke again, but this time, he wasn't standing outside her door. His voice came from somewhere behind her. "Amara, don't turn around." She froze. For several seconds, she couldn't move. Then she slowly turned her head toward the dark hallway leading to her kitchen. A figure stood at the far end. Tall. Motionless. Watching her. Amara tried to scream, but no sound came out. The figure took one step forward. Then another. The light from the sitting room finally reached the person's face. Amara recognized him immediately. It was the man in Jessica's photograph. The man standing beside Daniel's car. The man who supposedly had no connection to her family. He looked directly into her eyes. Then he spoke the words that destroyed everything Amara believed about her life. "Your father didn't die in that accident." Amara shook her head. "No. That's impossible." The man reached into his pocket and brought out an old photograph. It showed a younger version of her mother standing beside a man who looked exactly like him. On the back, someone had written a date. The date was twenty years earlier. Beneath it were four words. THE NIGHT AMARA WAS BORN. Before Amara could ask another question, her phone vibrated. A final message appeared from Jessica's number. Amara, run. He's not the person you think he is. She looked up. The man was smiling. And somewhere outside, Daniel began pounding on the door. "AMARA! DON'T LET HIM TAKE YOU!" The lights suddenly went out. In the darkness, Amara heard a whisper beside her ear. "You should have stayed away from the truth." Then something crashed in the sitting room. And everything went silent. TO BE CONTINUED..