The bathroom

One autumn evening, Roni, a 36-year-old single mother, returned to her small house in the Hadarim neighborhood. Her day at the advertising office had drained her of energy. She turned on the light in the entryway, threw her bag on the floor, and called out in a tired voice:

"Amit? Are you home?"

Silence.

Roni smiled awkwardly to herself. She must have put her headphones back on.

She entered the living room, delicately in a pair of shoes that had been forgotten on the floor, and from there continued to the kitchen. Just as she reached for the kettle, the sound of running water was heard behind the next door – the bathroom. A white, glowing light burst through the blurry glass in the door.

"Amit?" Roni called out and knocked.

No response.

Amit was her only daughter – thirteen and a half years old, with a tendency to talk non-stop. This silence did not suit her at all.

Roni shrugged. Taking a shower, apparently not hearing anything.

About five minutes passed. Roni went back into the kitchen. The water was still running.

She raised her brow. Strange... Amit doesn't shower for more than four minutes, dammit.

There was another knock on the door. Again – silence.

Suddenly, the sharp ring of the cell phone pierced the silence.

It was in her bag, in the living room. Roni hurried there, pulled out the device and looked at the screen – "Amit is calling".

Her heart skipped a beat.

She answered.

"Yes, sweetie?"

"Oh, hey Mom! I just wanted to say at Noa's. We're working on the history paper, so I'll be back later, okay?"

Roni froze.

"What do you mean at Noa's? You're not home?"

"No... why?"

Roni was shocked. "Because I've been hearing water running in the shower for fifteen minutes!"

"What?" Amit's voice trembled slightly.

"Honey, I... I'll talk to you in a moment, okay?"

"Yes... Mom, you're stressing me out."

Ronnie hung up. Her heart was beating wildly. Her whole body was shaking. She knew she couldn't ignore it.

She opened the kitchen drawer, pulled out a large knife, and slowly walked toward the bathroom.

The doorknob was cold.

First try – the door swung open.

Ronnie entered cautiously. Steam filled the room. A wet look stared back at her from the mirror. She turned toward the curtain – water was flowing, but no human voice could be heard.

No, almost breathless, she reached out and pulled the curtain back.

A deafening scream erupted from her.

Inside the bathtub lay a body, bleeding, skin pale, eyes wide open.

But what caught Ronnie's attention most of all – was the silver watch on the dead man's wrist.

This watch was a gift she had given to her ex-husband, Daniel – the man everyone had believed in a year ago without a trace.

The water kept flowing.

And Ronnie couldn’t hear anything anymore – only the beating of her heart and the soft whisper that came from the phone she still held in her hand:

“Mom…? What was that noise?”