MY BEST FRIEND
I didn't sleep.
Not properly, anyway.
Every time I closed my eyes, I heard the man's voice again.
Stop asking questions.
I had replayed the call so many times in my head that I could almost hear his breathing.
Who was he?
Why had he called me?
And what questions was he talking about?
I hadn't asked anyone anything.
At least, not that I knew of.
Unless…
My thoughts returned to the corridor.
Malik's voice.
"She can't know yet."
Then Mr. Adrian's warning.
"Be careful who you trust."
My stomach twisted.
Maybe I was connecting things that had nothing to do with each other.
Maybe I was simply frightened.
But one thing bothered me more than everything else.
My best friend had told me not to meet Malik alone.
And she wasn't the type to make such a warning without a reason.
I reached for my phone.
4:52 a.m.
I had spent almost the entire night staring at the ceiling.
I finally sat up.
"Enough."
I needed answers.
And there was only one person I trusted enough to tell everything to.
My best friend.
She arrived at school before me.
The moment she saw my face, she frowned.
"You didn't sleep."
It wasn't a question.
I dropped my bag onto the desk.
"No."
"Why?"
"I kept thinking about the call."
She pulled out the chair beside me.
"Tell me everything again."
I repeated the conversation.
She listened without interrupting.
When I finished, she stared at the desk.
"Did you recognize the breathing?"
I looked at her.
"How am I supposed to recognize someone's breathing?"
She shrugged.
"I don't know."
I stared at her.
"You know something."
Her eyes lifted.
"What?"
"You're acting strange."
"I'm not."
"You are."
She sighed.
"Lina…"
"Tell me."
She looked around the classroom.
Nobody was close enough to hear us.
"I don't know who called you."
"Then why are you acting like you do?"
"Because I'm worried."
"About me?"
"Of course."
I studied her face.
She was telling the truth.
At least, I thought she was.
"Did something happen yesterday?"
She hesitated.
"What do you mean?"
"After you left me and Malik."
She looked away.
My heart started beating faster.
"What happened?"
"Nothing."
I narrowed my eyes.
"You know I hate that word."
She sighed.
"I saw someone following you."
My body stiffened.
"Who?"
"I don't know."
"Male or female?"
"Male."
"Did you see his face?"
"No."
"Then how do you know he was following me?"
"Because he followed you from the cafeteria."
I stared at her.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I wasn't sure."
"You should have told me!"
Several students turned toward us.
I lowered my voice.
"Sorry."
She reached for my hand.
"I didn't want to scare you."
"You've scared me now."
"I know."
I looked down at our hands.
"Did he follow me home?"
"I don't know."
A chill passed through me.
For the first time, I became aware of how exposed I was.
Someone could have been watching me.
Someone could have known where I lived.
Someone had my number.
Someone knew I was asking questions.
But why?
"What exactly did you see?" I asked.
She leaned closer.
"He was standing near the gate."
"And?"
"When you left with Malik, he followed behind."
"Did Malik see him?"
"I don't know."
I frowned.
"You've been keeping things from me."
"I'm trying to protect you."
"By lying?"
Her expression fell.
"I didn't lie."
"You didn't tell me the truth."
She looked hurt.
"I'm sorry."
I wanted to remain angry.
But I couldn't.
She had been my best friend for years.
The person who knew every embarrassing secret I had.
The person who had stayed beside me when others walked away.
The person I called whenever I couldn't sleep.
I couldn't imagine doubting her.
So I squeezed her hand.
"Just promise me you won't hide anything from me again."
She looked directly into my eyes.
"I promise."
Neither of us knew how important that promise would become.
At break time, Malik came into the classroom.
My heart reacted before my mind did.
I hated that.
One look at him and my anger softened.
He walked toward us.
"Can I talk to you?"
I looked at my friend.
She immediately stood.
"I'll go."
Malik watched her leave.
Then he sat beside me.
"You didn't call me last night."
"I did."
"I mean after."
I looked at him.
"Something happened."
His expression changed.
"What?"
"Someone called me."
"Who?"
"Unknown number."
"What did they say?"
I stared at him.
"Why do you look worried?"
"I'm not."
"You are."
He looked away.
I lowered my voice.
"They told me to stop asking questions."
His jaw tightened.
"What questions?"
"I don't know."
He became silent.
Too silent.
"Malik?"
He finally looked at me.
"Did you tell anyone about yesterday?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"Why?"
"Because…"
He stopped.
"Because what?"
He shook his head.
"Forget it."
I stared at him.
"You're doing it again."
"Doing what?"
"Keeping things from me."
He sighed.
"I'm trying to protect you."
My heart sank.
"Everyone keeps saying that."
He looked at me.
"Who else said that?"
"My friend."
His expression hardened slightly.
"She shouldn't involve herself."
I frowned.
"She's my best friend."
"I know."
"Then don't speak about her like that."
"I'm not trying to."
"Then what are you trying to say?"
He stood.
"I have to go."
"Malik!"
He stopped.
I swallowed.
"Do you love me?"
He turned around.
The question had escaped before I could stop it.
His face softened.
"Of course I do."
"Then trust me."
He looked at me for several seconds.
"I do."
But something about his answer didn't feel complete.
He walked away.
I watched him leave.
My heart felt heavy.
Later that afternoon, I found my best friend near the library.
She was standing alone.
I walked toward her.
"Hey."
She turned.
"Where have you been?"
"With Malik."
Her expression changed.
"Alone?"
"Yes."
"I told you not to."
"I know."
"Why didn't you listen?"
I sighed.
"Because I love him."
She looked at me.
"Lina, love doesn't mean you stop thinking."
Her words hurt.
But I knew she meant well.
"I know."
She stepped closer.
"Something is happening."
"What?"
"I don't know."
"Then what do you want me to do?"
"Be careful."
I laughed bitterly.
"That's all everyone says."
"Because you're not listening."
I became quiet.
She reached into her bag.
"I found something."
She handed me a folded piece of paper.
I opened it.
There was a name written on it.
MALIK.
My heart dropped.
"What is this?"
"I found it near the administration building."
I looked at her.
"Why would his name be there?"
"I don't know."
"What else was written?"
"Nothing."
I turned the paper over.
Nothing.
I looked at the handwriting.
It was neat.
Careful.
Almost deliberate.
"Could this be from Mr. Adrian?"
She shook her head.
"I don't know."
I folded the paper.
"We need to find out."
She grabbed my arm.
"No."
I looked at her.
"Why?"
"Because this is exactly what the caller warned you about."
"Maybe that's why we should investigate."
"Lina."
"I'm tired of being afraid."
She stared at me.
I could see the fear in her eyes.
Then she whispered something that made my blood run cold.
"I've seen that name before."
"What?"
"Malik's name."
"Where?"
She looked toward the corridor.
"At my brother's house."
I froze.
"Your brother?"
She nodded slowly.
"Last week."
I couldn't speak.
Her brother.
The same brother she had always described as private, complicated and difficult to understand.
"What was Malik's name doing at his house?"
"I don't know."
"Did you ask him?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because I didn't want him to know I had seen it."
I stared at her.
For the first time, a new question entered my mind.
What exactly was happening between Malik and my best friend's family?
That evening, she invited me to her house.
"I need to show you something."
I hesitated.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
Her parents weren't home.
We entered quietly.
She led me upstairs.
Her room looked exactly as I remembered it.
Pictures.
Books.
Clothes scattered across the chair.
Nothing unusual.
She locked the door.
"What are you doing?"
"Just in case."
My heart began pounding.
She walked toward her wardrobe and pulled out a small box.
She placed it on the bed.
"What's inside?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know?"
"I found it in my brother's room."
I stared at her.
"You went through his things?"
"He wasn't home."
She opened the box.
Inside were photographs.
Dozens of them.
I picked one up.
My breath caught.
It was a photograph of Malik.
Standing beside her brother.
They weren't smiling.
They looked serious.
I picked up another.
Malik again.
Another.
Malik.
My hands started shaking.
"Why does your brother have so many pictures of him?"
"I don't know."
I looked at her.
"Did you know they were friends?"
"No."
"Then why—"
A sound came from downstairs.
We both froze.
Someone had entered the house.
She immediately closed the box.
"Who is that?"
"I don't know."
Footsteps moved across the floor below us.
Slow.
Heavy.
Coming closer.
My best friend grabbed my hand.
"Don't make a sound."
The footsteps stopped outside her bedroom.
Neither of us breathed.
Then the door handle moved.
Once.
Twice.
I covered my mouth.
The door slowly began to open.
And a familiar voice came from the other side.
"Lina?"
My blood ran cold.
It was Malik.
Why was he here?
And why had he come looking for me?
Before either of us could answer, his voice came again.
"I know you're inside."
My best friend looked at me.
Neither of us moved.
Then Malik whispered something that made my heart stop.
"You shouldn't have found those photographs."