Chapter Two: The Things She Forgot
1100 Words
Maya read the message three times.
ASK HER ABOUT THE NIGHT YOU DISAPPEARED.
Her thumb hovered over the screen.
Then another thought struck her.
How did whoever sent it know about her mother?
She locked her phone and looked around the cafeteria.
Hundreds of students were talking, laughing, eating.
Nobody seemed interested in her.
Except the boy from the hallway.
He was sitting alone near the windows.
Watching her.
Maya stood.
He immediately looked away.
She walked toward him.
“Hey.”
He didn’t respond.
“You told me to leave Hollow Creek.”
Nothing.
“So I’m guessing you know something.”
His eyes slowly lifted to hers.
“You shouldn’t be talking to me.”
“Why?”
“Because people are watching.”
Maya glanced around.
“Who?”
He looked toward the cafeteria doors.
Then back at her.
“Everyone.”
Maya almost laughed.
“That’s helpful.”
His expression didn’t change.
“You found something, didn’t you?”
Maya froze.
“What?”
“The photograph.”
She said nothing.
His face tightened.
“You found it.”
“How do you know?”
“Because they always do.”
“Who?”
He stood.
“Maya, you need to stop asking questions.”
“That’s not happening.”
He stared at her for a moment.
Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
He handed it to her.
“Don’t open it here.”
“What is it?”
“Something you left behind.”
Before Maya could ask anything else, he walked away.
She unfolded the paper slightly.
A familiar handwriting covered the front.
Her handwriting.
Three words.
I REMEMBER EVERYTHING.
Maya stared at them.
She knew her own handwriting.
But she didn’t remember writing them.
⸻
She waited until the final bell.
The hallway emptied quickly.
Maya slipped the paper into her pocket and headed toward the library.
If anyone knew what happened ten years ago, it would be there.
Old newspapers.
School records.
Photographs.
Answers.
At least, that was the plan.
The library was almost empty.
An elderly librarian sat behind the desk.
She looked up when Maya entered.
For a moment, her expression softened.
Then it disappeared.
“Can I help you?”
“I’m looking for newspapers from ten years ago.”
The woman hesitated.
“Which ones?”
“Anything about Blackwater Lake.”
Silence.
The librarian’s eyes moved toward the door.
Then back to Maya.
“Why?”
“I saw something.”
“What?”
“A photograph.”
The woman’s face changed.
“Where?”
Maya realized her mistake.
She hadn’t told anyone about the photograph.
“I found it online.”
The librarian stared at her.
For several seconds, Maya thought she might refuse.
Instead, she stood and walked toward a locked cabinet.
She unlocked it.
Inside were dozens of old newspapers.
The librarian pulled out a thick folder.
She placed it on the desk.
“Be careful with those.”
Maya opened it.
The first article showed the same six teenagers.
Their names were:
Ethan Vale.
Sophie Mercer.
Daniel Cross.
Lena Brooks.
Noah Reed.
Caleb Hart.
Maya read the article.
Six teenagers had gone to Blackwater Lake after a school event.
Only one person had returned.
A seventh teenager.
The article didn’t name her.
Maya’s heart began beating faster.
“Who was the seventh?”
The librarian went completely still.
“You know about her?”
“Who was she?”
The woman closed the folder.
“Go home, Maya.”
Maya stared at her.
“Why?”
“Because some things happened here that should stay buried.”
“You knew me.”
The librarian’s expression cracked.
Just for a second.
“Yes.”
Maya’s breath caught.
“How?”
The woman looked at her with something that seemed almost like sadness.
“You used to come here every afternoon.”
“When?”
“Before.”
“Before what?”
The librarian shook her head.
“I can’t.”
“Can’t what?”
“Remember.”
Maya frowned.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
The librarian looked directly into her eyes.
“It does if you’re me.”
Maya didn’t understand.
Then the woman whispered:
“You asked me to forget.”
A cold sensation crawled up Maya’s arms.
“What did I ask you to forget?”
The librarian didn’t answer.
Instead, she reached into the folder and removed a small piece of paper.
She handed it to Maya.
It was old and yellowed.
Written across it was a single sentence.
IF MAYA COMES BACK, DON’T TELL HER ABOUT THE BASEMENT.
Maya looked up.
“What basement?”
The librarian’s face went pale.
Then the lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
The library went dark.
Maya heard something fall behind her.
She turned.
A book lay open on the floor.
She hadn’t touched it.
She stepped closer.
The page contained a photograph.
Maya bent down.
Her breath caught.
It was a picture of the seven children from the lake.
But this time, she could see the seventh girl’s face clearly.
It was Maya.
Only there was something different.
The girl in the photograph was smiling.
And Maya had never seen that smile before.
Behind the photograph, someone had written:
SHE WASN’T THE ONE WHO DISAPPEARED.
Maya’s phone buzzed.
She nearly dropped it.
Unknown number.
One message.
LOOK BEHIND YOU.
Maya slowly turned.
Nobody was there.
Except the librarian.
Standing perfectly still.
Staring at the photograph in Maya’s hands.
Then the librarian whispered:
“Oh God.”
Maya swallowed.
“What?”
The woman looked at her.
“You really don’t remember.”
“Remember what?”
The librarian took one trembling step backward.
“That night…”
She stopped.
A sound came from somewhere beneath the floor.
Three slow knocks.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Maya stared at the floor.
The librarian’s face drained of color.
“Don’t go downstairs.”
Maya looked toward the narrow staircase at the back of the library.
There was a door at the bottom.
She had never noticed it before.
“What happens if I do?”
The librarian whispered:
“Last time you opened that door…”
Another three knocks came from below.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
“…someone disappeared.”
Maya stared at the door.
Then at the photograph.
Then at the message in her hand.
She didn’t know what scared her more.
The fact that something might be waiting beneath the library—
or the growing feeling that some part of her already knew exactly what was behind that door.
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