The Last Message

Title: The Last Message

The message arrived at exactly 3:07 AM.

A single notification blinked on Emily Carter’s phone, piercing the darkness of her tiny apartment. Her breath hitched as she squinted at the glowing screen. It was a text—from a number she hadn’t seen in over a year. A number that should have been disconnected.

It was from her sister.

But her sister was dead.

Emily’s fingers trembled as she opened the message: "Emily, it wasn’t an accident. I need you to find out the truth. Trust no one."

Her stomach twisted. For the past year, she had tried to convince herself that Lily’s death was just that—an accident. A car skidding off an empty road, a tragedy that could have happened to anyone. But now, staring at the message, that theory shattered like glass.

She tried to call the number, her heart hammering in her chest, but there was only a dead tone on the other end. Cold dread settled over her like a fog. Who sent this? Was it some cruel joke? Or was Lily trying to reach her—from beyond?

Emily wasn’t one to believe in ghosts, but she knew one thing for certain: if Lily was warning her, it meant she was in danger.

The next morning, Emily retraced her sister’s last steps. She drove to the crash site, a deserted stretch of highway bordered by dense forest. The guardrail was still bent from the impact. She knelt, running her fingers over the scorched metal, trying to picture what had happened that night. That’s when she saw it—scratched into the base of the rail, almost invisible unless the light hit it just right.

"Not alone."

A cold shiver crept up her spine. Someone else had been there.

Determined, she pulled out her phone and zoomed in, capturing the marking. If the police had missed this, what else had they overlooked?

As she stood, something in the trees shifted.

A figure.

Watching.

Emily’s pulse spiked. Whoever they were, they weren’t just passing by. They had been waiting for her. She turned to her car, her mind screaming run, but before she could move, her phone buzzed again.

A new message. The same unknown number.

"You should have left it alone."

Emily looked up.

The figure was gone.

She didn’t sleep that night. The message haunted her, replaying in her mind like a broken record. Was this a warning? A threat? Or worse—was she next?

By morning, she had made a decision. If the police had written off Lily’s death as an accident, she would find the truth herself. She started with Lily’s old phone, which she had kept tucked away in a drawer. It had been returned to her after the crash, but Emily never had the heart to turn it back on—until now.

The screen flickered to life. Most of the messages were routine—texts between friends, reminders, casual conversations. But then, at the bottom of the last thread, Emily’s breath caught in her throat.

A message sent the night of the accident, just minutes before Lily’s crash.

"Meet me at 11 PM. Come alone. Don’t tell Emily."

The sender’s name was blocked.

Emily’s fingers clenched around the phone. Someone had lured Lily out that night. Someone had planned this.

She dialed the number from Lily’s last message. The line rang once, twice—

Then it picked up.

Silence.

Her breath caught. "Who is this?" she demanded.

The line crackled, a faint breath on the other end. And then a whisper, so low she barely heard it:

"You were never supposed to find out."

Click.

The call disconnected.

Emily’s blood turned to ice. Whoever was behind this was still out there. And now, they knew she was looking for them.

A knock at the door made her jump.

She turned slowly, heart hammering, staring at the locked door. Another knock—louder this time.

She reached for her phone, hands trembling as she typed a quick message to the only person she trusted: "If anything happens to me, it wasn’t an accident."

Another knock.

Then silence.

Emily took a deep breath and reached for the doorknob