The Girl Who Knew Too Much

The Warning

Amara waited until the school was almost empty before heading toward the abandoned building.

Tessa's drawing was folded inside her notebook.

The marked window was the only clue she had.

She knew going there alone was risky, but she couldn't ignore it anymore.

When she reached the building, the sky was already dark.

Amara walked around to the side of the building and found the window from the drawing.

It was covered with dust and vines.

She pushed the vines aside.

Behind them was a small metal panel.

Amara examined it carefully.

There was a tiny keyhole.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out the black key from Room 17.

It fit.

The panel opened with a quiet click.

Inside was a small envelope.

Her name was written across it.

AMARA.

She opened it with trembling hands.

Inside was a note.

“If you're reading this, they already know you remember.”

Amara's heart began racing.

She continued reading.

“Don't go home tonight.”

She looked around.

The building was silent.

Then she heard a sound behind her.

A branch snapped.

Amara quickly turned.

Nobody was there.

Her phone vibrated.

She looked at the screen.

Unknown Number:

I warned you to stop.

Another message appeared.

You have one hour.

Amara's hands shook.

She typed:

Who are you?

The reply came almost instantly.

Someone who was there that night.

Amara stared at the message.

Someone who had been there in 2017.

Someone who knew what she had forgotten.

Then another message arrived.

Ask your mother about the fourth person.

Amara froze.

The fourth person.

She remembered the old photograph.

Tessa.

Daniel.

Herself.

There had been someone else standing just outside the frame.

Amara suddenly understood why the person's face had been scratched out.

Someone had wanted to hide their identity.

She quickly took out her phone and photographed the note.

Then she heard footsteps approaching from inside the building.

Amara backed away from the window.

The footsteps became louder.

Someone was coming.

She ran toward the road without looking back.

When she finally reached a streetlight, she stopped and looked at her phone.

There was one final message.

“You have until midnight to find the fourth person.”

Amara looked at the time.

10:43 p.m.

She had less than two hours.

And for the first time, she knew exactly where to start.

Her mother's old photographs.