SIXTEEN

CHAPTER FOUR >>> THE PHOTOGRAPH

The first thing I did when I got home was search for the photograph.

I didn’t know why.

Maybe because Zara’s words wouldn’t leave my head.

You were in an accident.

Everyone does.

Maybe forgetting was the safest thing that happened to you.

I hated not remembering.

It made me feel like there was a missing piece of my own life sitting somewhere, waiting for me to find it.

I dropped my school bag beside my bed and opened my laptop.

I searched through old pictures.

Nothing.

Then I remembered Mum kept most of our family photographs on an old hard drive.

I went downstairs.

“Mum?”

“Yes?”

“Where’s the old hard drive?”

She looked up from the kitchen counter.

“Why?”

“I need some pictures.”

“Which pictures?”

“School pictures.”

She stared at me for a moment.

“Why?”

I shrugged.

“For a project.”

It was a terrible lie.

Mum knew it.

I knew she knew it.

But she didn’t ask again.

“It’s in the cabinet.”

“Thanks.”

I took it upstairs.

For the next twenty minutes, I searched through folders.

Birthdays.

Christmas.

Family trips.

School events.

Then I found it.

INTER-SCHOOL COMPETITION — LAST YEAR

My heart started beating faster.

I clicked.

There were dozens of photographs.

Students standing outside the school.

Teachers smiling.

Groups posing for pictures.

Then I saw myself.

I froze.

There I was.

Standing between Zara and Nathan.

I looked happy.

Really happy.

I stared at my own face.

I couldn’t remember taking the picture.

I couldn’t remember that day.

I zoomed in.

There was another person standing slightly behind us.

A boy.

Dark hair.

Serious expression.

I recognized him immediately.

Daniel.

I didn’t know how I knew his name.

But I did.

I stared at him.

Then I noticed something.

His hand was resting on my shoulder.

I zoomed in further.

On my other side was Zara.

And Nathan was standing beside her.

All four of us were together.

Like we belonged together.

Like we had been friends.

I opened another photograph.

Daniel was laughing.

Another.

Zara had her arm around me.

Another.

Nathan was looking directly at me.

I stopped.

Something about that picture felt strange.

Not bad.

Just familiar.

I stared at it for a long time.

Then—

A flash.

Rain.

A car window.

Someone screaming.

“Amara!”

I shut the laptop.

My heart was racing.

I pressed my palms against my eyes.

What was happening?

I opened the laptop again.

The photograph was still there.

I stared at Daniel.

Why couldn’t I remember him?

My phone buzzed.

I nearly dropped it.

Zara: Don’t look through the pictures.

I stared at the message.

My fingers went cold.

How did she know?

I typed:

Me: How did you know I was looking through them?

No response.

I waited.

Nothing.

I called her.

She didn’t answer.

I called again.

Still nothing.

I looked back at the photograph.

Then I noticed something I’d missed before.

There was writing on the back.

I turned the physical photograph over.

Three words were written in blue ink.

Don’t trust him.

I stared at the words.

My stomach dropped.

Who was him?

Nathan?

Daniel?

Someone else?

I took a picture of the note and sent it to Zara.

This time, she replied immediately.

Zara: Where did you get that?

Me: The photograph.

Zara: Throw it away.

I stared at the screen.

Me: Why?

She didn’t answer.

A minute passed.

Then two.

Then my phone buzzed again.

Not Zara.

The unknown number.

Unknown Number: You finally found it.

I stopped breathing for a second.

Another message appeared.

Unknown Number: Now ask yourself why Daniel wasn’t in the hospital with you.

I stared at the screen.

Then I looked back at the photograph.

Daniel.

Zara.

Nathan.

Me.

Four friends.

One accident.

And a secret I couldn’t remember.

I picked up the photograph again.

This time, I noticed something in the background.

A car.

Parked behind us.

I zoomed in.

The driver’s window was open.

Someone was sitting inside.

I couldn’t see their face.

But suddenly, I knew one thing.

The accident hadn’t been an accident.

And someone was making sure I never remembered why.