I held each item carefully: my dress, my hair ties, my favorite book. I cried, clutching them to my chest, as if it might bring me back to her, even for a moment.
Suddenly, a small, folded piece of paper fell out of one of the books. My heart skipped a beat.
I opened it and recognized my daughter’s handwriting.
The note read: “Mom, if you’re reading this, look under the bed immediately and you’ll understand everything.”
I read it several times, my hands shaking. I felt a tightness in my chest. What could this mean?
Gathering my strength, I knelt down and looked under the bed… and what I saw shocked me.
With trembling hands, I pulled an old bag from under the bed. Inside were a few items: a few notebooks, a small box of trinkets, and my daughter’s phone. The same phone my husband had said was “missing.” My heart pounded with a dark premonition.
I turned on my phone—it was still working. The first thing I opened was Messages. There I found a chat with her friend.
Fragments of the conversation
February 15, 10:17 PM
Daughter: I can’t stand it anymore.
22:18
Friend: What happened?
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