The Girl Who Knew Too Much

The Contents Of The Box

Amara stood at the doorway of her bedroom, staring at the black box.

She hadn't put it there.

She was certain of that.

Slowly, she walked toward the desk.

Her phone showed 11:41 p.m.

She had nineteen minutes before midnight.

Amara picked up the box and examined it. There were no markings on the outside, except for a tiny symbol carved into the lid.

A circle with a line through it.

She had seen that symbol before.

On Tessa's notebook.

Her hands trembled as she opened the box.

Inside was an old cassette, a small photograph, and a folded piece of paper.

She picked up the photograph first.

It showed the abandoned building.

But this time, the picture had been taken from inside.

Four shadows stood near the doorway.

Amara turned it over.

“Listen before you decide who to trust.”

She unfolded the paper.

There was only one sentence.

The truth was recorded that night.

Amara stared at the cassette.

A cassette player sat on the shelf beside her old books. She hadn't used it in years.

She inserted the cassette.

For a few seconds, there was only static.

Then she heard a child's voice.

Her own voice.

“Where are we going?”

Amara froze.

Another voice answered.

“Don't worry. You'll be safe.”

She couldn't recognize the second voice.

Then she heard Tessa.

“Amara, don't tell anyone what you saw.”

The recording suddenly became unclear.

Amara leaned closer.

A few seconds later, another voice spoke.

This one sounded frightened.

“They can't know about the box.”

Then the recording stopped.

Amara stared at the player.

Her phone vibrated.

Unknown Number:

Now you know why your memories were taken from you.

Another message followed.

But you still don't know who started it.

Amara looked at the clock.

11:57 p.m.

Three minutes until midnight.

Then someone knocked on her bedroom door.

Amara turned around.

Her mother stood outside.

“Amara,” she said quietly, “we need to talk.”

Amara looked at the cassette.

Then at her mother.

For the first time, she noticed that her mother wasn't surprised to see the box.

She was afraid of it.

Amara slowly stood.

“Mom…”

Her mother shook her head.

“Don't ask me here.”

“Then where?”

Her mother looked toward the window.

“Because someone is waiting outside.”

Amara's heart raced.

She moved toward the window.

Her mother grabbed her hand.

“Don't look.”

But Amara had already seen the shadow across the street.

Someone was standing beneath the streetlight.

Watching the house.

Then her phone vibrated one final time.

11:59 p.m.

The message read:

Tomorrow, ask Daniel about Michael.

Amara looked at her mother.

“Who is Michael really?”

Her mother closed her eyes.

And whispered,

“Your brother.”