Some promises fall silently

Chapter Four: The Voice At The Other End Of The call

The next few days felt strange to me because nothing felt right anymore.

In everything I did, I felt like there was always a missing piece of the puzzle.

Some days, I felt like I didn't even know myself anymore.

Like I was becoming a stranger to myself.

At some point, I couldn't recognize myself anymore because it felt like I was more at war with myself than I had ever been before.

It was as if there were more missing pieces than there had been before, and the harder I tried to put them together, the more confused I became.

But there was something that made everything much worse.

Something very strange.

Very, very strange.

I started seeing the notebook everywhere at school.

It was as if someone wanted me to open it and read it.

I didn't tell Mmesoma about it because I thought she was the one doing it, just so I would have a reason to talk to her.

I didn't know that it was someone else entirely.

But one day, I saw the notebook in the strangest place of all.

That day was the day I finally reached my limit.

I couldn't take it anymore.

I found the notebook inside my schoolbag when I got home.

I was completely confused.

Why would Mmesoma put it in my bag?

Why would she bring it to me after making me promise never to open it?

So many questions filled my mind.

Was she trying to annoy me because I had been ignoring her?

Was she trying to make me angry?

Was she trying to force me to talk to her?

All these questions ran through my mind, and it seemed like I wasn't going to find an answer anytime soon.

So I decided to text her.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

I texted.

"Doing what?"

She asked.

"Don't play dumb with me."

I replied.

"I really don't know what you're talking about."

She said.

"Really? You don't know what I'm talking about?"

I asked.

"Yes."

She replied.

"Wow. Is this how you're going to play it?"

I said.

"Playing what?"

She asked.

"Your little game."

I replied.

"What game?"

She asked.

"Why are you pretending?"

I asked.

"Pretending to do what?"

She replied.

"Why are you lying?"

I asked.

"Lying? I'm not lying ooo."

She said.

"Then explain it to me."

I replied.

"Explain what?"

She asked.

"How is your notebook following me everywhere I go?"

I asked.

"Are you serious?"

She asked.

"Do I sound like I'm joking?"

I replied.

"Really? The notebook is following you?"

She asked.

"Yeah. I know you're angry at me for ignoring you, but this has to stop."

I said.

"I'll take that as an apology."

She replied.

"Fine. Take it however you like. Just stop it. You've made your point clear."

I said.

"Well, to be honest, I wasn't the one doing it."

She said,

"So who is?"

I asked.

"I don't really know. But whatever you do, don't trust everyone you meet, please. And don't believe everything you hear. I'll explain later."

She replied.

"Explain what?"

I asked.

"Just trust me."

She said.

A few minutes later, we stopped chatting.

I couldn't sleep that night.

I just lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying everything that had happened in my mind.

The notebook.

Mmesoma.

My cousin.

My father's past.

The mysterious photograph.

Nothing made sense.

I stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours.

Then something strange happened.

My phone rang.

I was surprised because it was after midnight, so I didn't answer the first time.

It rang again.

I still didn't answer.

It rang for the third time.

This time, I picked up my phone.

To my surprise, it was an unknown number.

I hesitated for a moment before answering.

"Hello?"

There was silence on the other end.

Then a voice finally spoke.

"You have been lied to your whole life."

My heart skipped.

"What are you talking about?"

I asked.

"Your dad knows. Everyone knows except you."

"Know what?"

I asked.

"I'm coming for you."

He said.

Then the line went dead.

I stared at my phone.

Before I could even process what had happened, my bedroom door opened.

My dad walked in.

"Who were you talking to on the phone just now?"

My dad asked.

I looked at him.

"I have no idea. But you may know the person."

"Why would you say that? Do you know who it was?"

My dad asked.

"No."

I replied.

"Okay. What did he say to you?"

He asked.

"He said he was coming for me and that all of you have been lying to me and hiding something from me."

I said.

"Really?"

He asked.

"Yeah. Do you know what that was about?"

I asked.

"No. But Daddy will handle it."

He said.

"Are you sure?"

I asked.

"Yeah."

He replied.

"But I thought you didn't want to be involved in the things you did in the past."

I said.

He looked at me.

"Which things?"

He asked, as though he thought I didn't know—or had forgotten—that he had once been an assassin.

I stared at him.

"The fact that you were a former assassin."

He went silent.

"Oh. That."

He finally said.

"Yeah. Is there something you're not telling me, Dad?"

I asked.

He hesitated.

"Yes, actually. There is."

My eyes widened.

"What is it?"

I asked in surprise.

He sat down and took a deep breath.

"Before I met your mom, I was a very bad person. I did bad things."

"Really?"

I asked.

"Yes."

He said.

"I used to be part of a criminal gang."

He paused.

"In fact, most of our family members were involved in the gang."

"Really? What happened?"

I asked.

"Then I met your mom."

His expression changed.

"I fell in love with her, and she changed me."

"Really?"

I said.

He nodded.

"And I was able to change some of our family members too. But not all of them."

He looked down for a moment.

"I thought I had finally buried my past. I thought it was all behind me."

He looked back at me.

"But it seems my past has come back to haunt me."

"Really?"

I whispered.

"I can't keep running from my past. I have to face it."

He said.

"Okay."

I replied.

"Just leave it for me to handle. I love you, okay?"

He said.

"Okay. I love you too."

I replied.

"Good night."

He said before leaving my room.

I watched the door close behind him.

For a few seconds, I remained completely still.

Then I looked at my phone.

The unknown number was still on my screen.

I stared at it.

The words kept repeating themselves inside my head.

Your dad knows.

Everyone knows except you.

I wanted to believe my father.

I really did.

But something inside me told me that he hadn't told me everything.

I reached for my phone and opened my messages.

There was one new message.

It was from an unknown number.

My heart began to race.

I opened it.

There was only one sentence.

"Ask your father about the part of your family that he was not able to change, what happened to them?"

I stared at the message.

My family? Nothing happened to my family.

At least, not as far as I knew.

Then another message arrived.

This one contained a photograph.

I opened it.

My hands went cold.

It was a picture of my father.

Standing beside him was my cousin.

And beside my cousin was Mmesoma.

I stared at the photograph, unable to breathe for a moment.

Then I noticed the date written beneath it.

It was taken before Mmesoma ever came to my school.

I dropped my phone onto the bed.

Suddenly, everything I thought I knew about my life began to feel like a lie.

And for the first time, I wondered if Mmesoma had really become my friend by accident or if it was all planned.

Or if she had known exactly who I was from the beginning and had decided to keep it a secret from me this whole time.