The Things She Didn’t Tell Me
888 Words
Lucy’s phone sat on the table like it didn’t belong there, like it was just another object and not something that held pieces of her life—of her last moments.
The police had returned it that afternoon. They told me most of it was locked, but I could look through what was accessible. I hadn’t touched it at first. I wasn’t ready. Because once I did, everything would become real in a different way.
“Jess?”
Michael’s voice came from behind me, soft but close.
“It’s just her phone,” I said quietly, even though I knew that wasn’t true.
It wasn’t *just* her phone. It was the last thing she held.
“Maybe you shouldn’t go through it right now,” he said, walking closer.
“Why?” I asked, finally turning to look at him.
“Because you’re not in the right state,” he replied. “You need rest, not more stress.”
“I need answers,” I said. My voice came out steadier than I expected.
He studied me for a moment before sighing softly. “Okay. But I’ll stay with you.”
“I can do it alone.”
“I know,” he said gently, “but you don’t have to.”
There was something about the way he said it—gentle, but firm. Like he had already decided.
I hesitated for a second, then nodded. “Fine.”
We sat down on the couch, closer than usual. His arm rested along the back of it, just behind me. Not touching, but close enough that I could feel it.
I picked up the phone. My hands felt colder than before as the screen lit up.
Lucy’s wallpaper appeared.
It was a picture of us. Smiling. Happy. Before everything broke.
My chest tightened, but I forced myself to unlock it.
“Take your time, baby,” Michael murmured softly.
I nodded and opened her messages.
At first, everything looked normal—friends, group chats, random conversations. Nothing unusual. Nothing important. Just everyday life.
Until I opened Jason’s chat.
My heart started beating faster as I read.
*Lucy: We need to talk.*
*Jason: About what?*
*Lucy: You know what.*
*Jason: Don’t do this.*
*Lucy: Then meet me.*
*Jason: Lucy—*
That was it.
“They argued,” I whispered.
Michael leaned slightly closer. “I told you,” he said quietly.
Something about his tone made me pause. It didn’t sound like concern. It sounded more like confirmation.
“There’s more,” I said, scrolling up.
The older messages started off normal, but then something changed.
*Lucy: I’m serious.*
*Jason: You’re overreacting.*
*Lucy: No, I’m not.*
*Jason: Drop it.*
*Lucy: I won’t.*
My stomach tightened.
“This doesn’t sound like them,” I said.
Michael didn’t respond immediately.
I kept reading.
*Lucy: If you don’t fix this, I will.*
*Jason: Don’t threaten me.*
*Lucy: I’m not threatening you. I’m telling you.*
A chill ran through me.
“What does that mean?” I asked quietly.
Michael leaned closer again, his shoulder brushing mine this time. “It means she found out something,” he said.
His voice was calm. Too calm.
“Something about Jason?” I asked.
“What else would it be?” he replied immediately.
Too certain.
I didn’t answer. Instead, I kept scrolling.
Then I saw it.
An unknown number.
No name. Just messages.
My heart skipped.
*Unknown: Are you alone?*
*Lucy: Yes.*
*Unknown: Good.*
*Lucy: I don’t like this.*
*Unknown: You didn’t have a choice.*
My breath caught.
“Michael…” I said slowly.
“What is it?” he asked.
I turned the phone slightly so he could see.
For a moment, he didn’t react at all. Then he leaned in closer, his face near mine as he read the messages carefully.
“Who is that?” I whispered.
He didn’t answer right away.
*Unknown: Tonight.*
*Lucy: No.*
*Unknown: You don’t get to say no.*
*Lucy: I’m serious.*
*Unknown: So am I.*
My hands started shaking.
“This isn’t Jason,” I said.
Michael went very still.
“Maybe it’s someone else she knew,” he said finally.
His voice was controlled, careful—but something felt off.
“She said she didn’t have a choice,” I said.
“That could mean anything,” he replied quickly.
Again. Too quickly.
I turned to look at him. “Why are you so sure?”
For a second, he didn’t answer. Then he smiled softly.
“It’s just a guess, babe.”
But it didn’t feel like a guess.
I looked back at the phone and scrolled further, but that was the last message. There was no saved contact. No history. Nothing.
“It’s gone,” I said.
“What is?” he asked.
“The contact. There’s no name. No number saved.”
Michael frowned slightly. “That’s strange.”
Yes. It was.
I leaned back, my mind racing.
“This doesn’t make sense,” I whispered. “She was meeting someone that night.”
“Jason,” Michael said.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Maybe not.”
The room suddenly felt colder. Quieter.
Because for the first time, I realized something I hadn’t seen before.
Lucy wasn’t just arguing with Jason.
She was afraid of someone else.
- Writer
