... ∆ ∆ ....
By the time Rebecca got home, her jeans were damp at the bottom.
She hadn't even noticed when the rain got heavier.
It clung to everything—her coat, her hair, even her eyelashes. The kind of rain that didn't fall hard, just… stayed. Like it had nowhere else to be.
She stood at her front door longer than necessary, staring at the lock like she'd forgotten how keys worked.
"Come on," she muttered, trying again.
The key slipped. Missed.
Her hands were shaking.
Not a lot. Just enough to annoy her.
"Get it together."
The door finally clicked open.
The house felt… off.
Not in a dramatic way. Nothing broken, nothing missing.
Just quiet.
Too quiet.
Rebecca stepped inside slowly and shut the door behind her, then—without really thinking about it—locked it twice.
She didn't usually do that.
She leaned her forehead briefly against the wood.
"Okay," she whispered. "You're fine."
But the words didn't land.
She dropped her keys into the small ceramic bowl by the door. It made a sharp clink louder than it should've been.
Everything felt louder.
Her footsteps. Her breathing. The ticking clock in the hallway.
Tick...
Tick.....
Tick.... Like a dynamite making a count down ready to explode.
"Right..... Tea," she said suddenly, like she'd been given instructions.
Something normal.
Something small.
In the kitchen, she filled the kettle, watching the water rise like it required full concentration. Like if she looked away, something else might happen.
Something worse.
She didn't even realise she was holding her breath until the kettle clicked into place.
Then the silence hit again.
Rebecca dragged a chair out and sat down, pulling a notepad toward her.
It was old, slightly bent at the corners, a faint coffee stain on one side. She always meant to throw it away. Never did.
Her pen hovered.
"Think," she said quietly.
Nothing.
Then everything.
All at once.
She wrote the times first.
∆>> 2:11 AM <<∆ –Emily
2:13 AM...Me
She stared at it.
"Two minutes," she murmured. "That's not random."
It couldn't be.
It just couldn't.
Then she wrote the message:
"You shouldn't have told her."
Her chest tightened.
"Told who?" she said out loud.
No, wrong question.
She pressed the pen harder against the paper.
"Told me."
Her stomach dropped slightly.
"Okay… so what did she tell me?" she whispered.
At first, nothing. Just blank space.
Then her brain did that thing… where it pulls something up from nowhere.
A memory she hadn't thought about properly.
Not until now.
The café.
Last week.
Emily sitting across from her, stirring her tea for way too long.
Rebecca had noticed.
Of course she had.
Emily was never subtle.
"You're just being weird," Rebecca had said.
Emily shrugged.
"I'm not."
"You are."
A pause.
Then Emily sighed.
"Okay… I saw something."
Rebecca remembered leaning back slightly.
"What kind of something?"
Emily hesitated.
That part stood out now.
Emily didn't hesitate.
Ever.
"I was at Daniel's," she said.
Rebecca frowned. "Okay?"
"He left his study open."
"And?"
Emily lowered her voice, as if the winds were ready to carry out every drop of word from her lips.
"There were documents. Like… files. Not normal ones."
Rebecca had laughed a little.
"Not normal how?"
"I don't know," Emily said quickly. "Just, names, numbers…..... dates. It didn't look right."
Rebecca had waved it off.
"You've been watching too many crime shows."
Emily didn't smile.
"I took one."
Rebecca blinked.
Back in her kitchen, the memory hit harder.
"Wait…...."
She sat up straighter.
"You took one?"
She hadn't reacted like that before.
She should have.
God, she should have.
The kettle clicked.
She flinched, as if someone had waved a punch at her.
"Jesus..…"
Rebecca let out a shaky breath and poured the water into her mug, slightly chipped at the rim. She noticed that now for some reason. Hadn't before, weird what your brain focuses on.
Daniel.
The name sat there now.
Different.
Heavy.
Not just Daniel.
Not just Mark's mate.
Not just Emily's… .....whatever he was.
Something else.
Her phone buzzed.
Rebecca froze.
Just for a second.
Then she looked.
Mark.
She hesitated.
Just a little.
Then answered.
"Yeah?"
"Rebecca——where are you?" His voice was fast. Tense.
"At home. Why?"
A pause.
Then he exhaled.
"Okay. Good."
Her grip tightened on the phone.
"What's going on?"
"It's Emily," he said. "I just heard something."
Rebecca closed her eyes briefly.
"Everyone's heard something, Mark. What is it?"
Another pause.
"They're saying she wasn't alone."
Her eyes opened.
"What?"
"Last night. When it happened. Someone was with her."
Rebecca's heart picked up.
"Who?"
"I don't know. That's the problem."
A beat.
Then, quieter:
"And apparently…..... she'd been scared of someone."
Rebecca didn't speak.
Her brain had already filled in the blank.
DANIEL.
"Mark," she said slowly, "did Emily ever say anything to you? About… finding something? Or taking something?"
Silence.....!! Not normal silence.
Heavy silence.
The kind that answers the question without answering it.
"…Why?" he said finally.
Rebecca sat up straighter.
"Mark."
Another pause.
Longer.
"I think we should talk in person," he said.
Her stomach tightened.
"Why can't you just tell me now?"
"Because I don't know who might be listening."
That landed.
Hard.
"What does that mean?" she asked.
But the line cut.
Rebecca stared at the phone.
"Mark?"
Nothing.
She pulled it away slowly.
The screen stared back.
Dead quiet.
The message came almost instantly.
Unknown Number.
Of course.....
She didn't even react this time.
Just opened it.
"You're getting closer.
But you're still asking the wrong questions."
Rebecca let out a short, humourless laugh.
"Yeah?" she said out loud. "Then help me out."
Nothing.
No reply.
Just the sound of rain against the window.
She looked back down at the notebook.
At the names.
Emily.
Daniel.
Mark.
Her pen hovered then she added:
Me.
She stared at it for a long time.
Because this part...
This was the part she didn't like.
Didn't want.
Couldn't avoid.
"Don't trust anyone."
The message echoed again.
Not dramatic this time.
Just…. there.
Quiet.
Persistent.
Rebecca leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling.
"This is insane," she whispered.
But it didn't feel insane.
That was the problem.
It felt like something that had already started.
Before her.
Before the messages.
Before 2:13 AM.
And now??
She was in it. Properly in it.
Not watching. Not guessing.
Not asking questions from the outside.
In the middle.
Her eyes drifted back to one name.
DANIEL
The study.
The documents.
The thing Emily wasn't supposed to see.
Rebecca sat up slowly.
Decision made.
Not dramatic.
Not heroic.
Just… inevitable.
"If there are answers," she said quietly, "they're there."