The first letter
Tricia sat at the worn-out wooden desk in her tiny apartment, flipping through bills and random fliers, her mind cluttered with thoughts of work deadlines and an upcoming job interview. She sighed, tossing aside another credit card offer, when her fingers brushed against a different kind of envelope, plain, white, unmarked.
Her brows furrowed. She hadn't received handwritten mail in years. Carefully, she tore open the flap and pulled out a single sheet of crisp paper. The words, written in elegant cursive, sent a chill down her spine.
"Tricia,
I know what happened. You're not safe. Trust no one. Look under the oak tree at Park-view."
There was no signature, no return address, just those ominous lines. Her heartbeat quickened as she read the message again, her hands trembling slightly. What was this? A prank? A mistake? Or something more sinister?
She stood up, pacing the small space, her mind racing through possibilities. The only "Park-view" she knew was a secluded area at the city's edge, a place she hadn't visited in years. But the oak tree, that was familiar.
A memory surfaced. Summer afternoons with Maya, her childhood best friend. The two of them scribbling secrets in notebooks, hiding little trinkets under that very tree, swearing to keep each other's dreams safe. But Maya was gone. Dead.
Tricia shivered. It had been nearly six years since Maya's tragic disappearance, ruled an accident. The police had closed the case, but something about it had never sat right with Tricia. She had tried to move on, to silence the gnawing doubts.
Yet here was a letter, a cryptic message from someone who seemed to know something. Something about Maya? Something about the past?
She clenched the paper in her fist. If this was a joke, it was a cruel one. If it wasn't…
She grabbed her coat, heart pounding. There was only one way to find out.
Echoes from the Past
The streets were quiet as Tricia walked toward Park-view, the anonymous letter still crumpled in her fist. The cool evening air did little to calm the storm in her mind. Every step she took seemed to pull her deeper into a memory, back to a time when life was simpler, before everything changed.
Summer, Ten Years Ago
Laughter echoed through the towering oak trees as Tricia and Maya raced toward their secret spot beneath the oldest tree in the park. Sunlight streamed through the branches, casting golden patches over the grass. Tricia, always the faster runner, reached the tree first, leaning against its thick trunk with a victorious grin.
"You cheated!" Maya huffed, doubling over to catch her breath.
Tricia smirked. "You always say that when you lose."
Maya rolled her eyes but grinned. She dropped to the ground and pulled out their battered old notebook, a collection of dreams, dares, and whispered secrets. She flipped to a fresh page and wrote in bold letters:
"Things We'll Do Together When We Grow Up!"
Tricia plopped beside her, watching as Maya scribbled:
Open a bookstore by the sea.
Travel to Paris and eat fancy croissants.
Never keep secrets from each other.
"That last one's the most important," Maya said, looking serious. "No matter what happens, we promise, right?"
Tricia held out her pinky. "Pinky promise."
Maya grinned and linked fingers with hers. "Good. Because secrets ruin everything."
Fall, Five Years Ago
The notebook lay forgotten in a shoebox under Tricia's bed. Life had become more complicated. High school, part-time jobs, college applications. Tricia still saw Maya, but something was different. She was different.
Maya had grown quieter, always glancing over her shoulder as if someone was watching her. She stopped answering calls sometimes, showed up late to their meet-ups, and always seemed distracted.
One rainy evening, Tricia found her sitting on the park bench, staring blankly at the oak tree.
"Maya?" Tricia sat beside her. "Are you okay?"
Maya flinched. "Yeah. Just… thinking."
Tricia hesitated before asking, "Thinking about what?"
Maya bit her lip. "Have you ever felt like someone knows too much about you? Like… someone is watching, waiting?"
Tricia frowned. "What do you mean?"
Maya exhaled shakily. "Forget it. I just," She shook her head. "It's nothing."
But Tricia knew it wasn't nothing.
A few weeks later, Maya disappeared.
Present Day
Tricia blinked back into reality as she reached the park. The oak tree stood tall, its roots twisting deep into the earth. She reached out and pressed a hand against its bark, feeling the weight of all those years.
The past wasn't done with her yet.
And neither was Maya's secret.
The Unfinished Conversation
A day before, Tricia sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the old shoe-box in her hands. The notebook she and Maya had once scribbled their dreams into lay inside, its pages yellowed with time. She ran her fingers over the cover, remembering the last time they had spoken, the conversation that had never been finished.
Four Years Ago
The rain drummed against the café window, casting shimmering patterns on the glass. Tricia stirred her coffee absentmindedly, watching Maya pick at the sleeve of her jacket. She had been acting strange for weeks, jumpy, distracted, avoiding eye contact.
"You haven't been answering my calls," Tricia finally said.
Maya sighed, glancing around as if checking for eavesdroppers. "I've just been… busy."
"Too busy for your best friend?" Tricia raised an eyebrow. "Come on, Maya. What's going on?"
Maya hesitated, then leaned forward. "I need you to listen carefully," she whispered. "If something happens to me, I need you to find,"
The café door swung open with a jingle, and Maya snapped her mouth shut, her eyes going wide. A man in a dark coat stepped inside, shaking off the rain. He didn't look at them, but Maya stiffened instantly.
"Who is that?" Tricia asked, but Maya grabbed her hand, squeezing it hard.
"Not here," she whispered urgently. "Meet me at the oak tree tonight. Nine o'clock. I'll explain everything."
Then she stood abruptly, pulling on her hood. "I have to go."
Tricia watched in confusion as Maya hurried out of the café, vanishing into the rain.
That Night
Tricia arrived at the park just before nine, her breath visible in the crisp night air. The oak tree stood tall, its branches swaying in the wind. She checked her phone, no messages from Maya.
Minutes passed. Then an hour.
By midnight, worry twisted in Tricia's gut. She tried calling, but Maya's phone was off. Something was wrong.
The next morning, Maya was officially missing.
Present Day
Tricia clenched her fists, staring at the base of the oak tree. That night had been the beginning of the nightmare. The unanswered questions, the sleepless nights, the endless theories. The police had ruled Maya's disappearance as a runaway case. But Tricia knew better.
Someone had wanted Maya silenced. And now, after all these years, a letter had arrived, pulling her back in.
She crouched, running her fingers over the roots of the tree. What had Maya wanted her to find?
The conversation had been left unfinished. But Tricia wasn't done listening.
A Friend's Warning
Tricia sat in her dimly lit apartment, the anonymous letter still on her desk, its words echoing in her mind. "You're not safe. Trust no one." Her instincts screamed at her to let it go, to leave the past buried where it lay. But she couldn't. Not after Maya. Not after everything.
Her phone vibrated against the wooden surface, breaking the silence. A private number.
Her heart pounded as she hesitated before answering. "Hello?"
For a moment, there was nothing but static. Then a distorted voice came through, low and urgent.
"Tricia, you need to stop."
She sat up straighter. "Who is this?"
A sharp inhale. "That doesn't matter. What matters is that you're digging into something you shouldn't. Leave it alone."
Tricia gripped the phone tighter. "Is this about Maya? Do you know what happened to her?"
Silence. Then, a sigh. "You have no idea what you're stepping into."
Tricia felt a chill creep down her spine. "Tell me the truth. What happened to Maya?"
The voice lowered. "The truth will get you killed."
A click. The call ended.
Tricia stared at the phone, her breath shallow. Someone didn't want her asking questions. But that only meant one thing, she was closer to the truth than she had ever been.
Pieces of the Puzzle
Tricia couldn't sleep. The anonymous letter, the mysterious phone call, and the ghost of Maya's unfinished conversation haunted her. She sat cross-legged on the floor of her apartment, old photos and letters scattered around her. There had to be something she had missed, some clue hiding in plain sight.
She reached for the shoe-box buried deep in her closet, the same one she had kept since high school. Inside lay their childhood memories, the battered notebook, faded polaroids, and a few trinkets. But something else caught her eye.
At the very bottom, hidden beneath old papers, was a small, leather-bound journal.
Tricia frowned. She didn't remember this.
She picked it up, flipping it open. Maya's handwriting. The first few pages were filled with random notes, poetry, and sketches, typical of Maya's creative mind. But as Tricia turned the pages, the tone changed.
April 3rd
I think someone is following me. It's not paranoia. I feel it, eyes watching, footsteps too close behind. I tried telling Tricia, but I stopped. I don't want her involved.
April 17th
They know what I found. The notebook isn't safe anymore. I have to move it. If something happens to me, someone needs to know. But who can I trust?
May 1st
The oak tree. The roots. That's where I hid it. If anyone finds this, PLEASE understand, I didn't run away. I was taken.
Tricia's blood ran cold.
Maya had left something behind, evidence. A secret buried under the oak tree. And she had been silenced before she could say more.
Tricia's hands trembled as she clutched the journal. She wasn't just chasing ghosts anymore. She was chasing the truth. And someone out there didn't want her to find it.