The Truth Beneath the Surface

Sophie Miller had it all. She was twenty-eight years old, and everything she had spent years working for was going perfectly. She had a successful marketing career, a devoted boyfriend named James, a set of friends who loved her, and an enviable life. Nothing could be better, and for the first time in years, she felt she could finally breathe. But all of it changed one night when she came home to discover an anonymous letter left for her.

The note was simple, handwritten in black ink on a worn piece of paper:

"I know what you did. Don't think it will stay buried forever."

Sophie stared at the letter in horror. Her mind was reeling. What was this? A joke? A sick joke? But something in the letter made her stomach turn. She tried to brush the sense of foreboding creeping up the back of her neck aside. She flung the letter down, thinking that it was nothing. But deep within herself, Sophie knew that her past had a bad habit of catching up with her at the worst possible time.

The next day, the tension was still there. Sophie went about her regular routine, but her mind was still preoccupied with the enigmatic note. She kept telling herself that it was nothing, that she was paranoid. But as the day went on, she began to notice tiny, unsettling differences. Her phone buzzed with notifications, but when she checked, there was nothing on it. Her apartment seemed different too. There were a few things out of place, as if someone had been there when she wasn't paying attention.

That night, when she climbed into bed, Sophie heard a sound outside her window. She froze. The blinds were pulled down, yet she couldn't shake the feeling that someone was standing there looking at her. She switched the lights off and tiptoed over to the window, heart racing. But when she looked out into the shadows, there was nothing—simply the darkness of the city street. But the feeling did not go away.

The next day, Sophie couldn't help but get the feeling that she was being followed. Wherever she went—work, the supermarket, even her post-work run—she saw the same face in the crowd. A man in a black coat who was always just that little bit too close. She tried to shake it off, but the fear nagged at her. What was happening? Who was following her?

It was not until she received a further message that it all fitted into place.

The message rolled onto her phone, coded and untrackable. It read: "Emma never made it to hospital, did she? You know what happened."

Sophie's breath caught in her throat. Emma. The name hit her mind like a bullet. Emma was her college roommate. Sophie hadn't thought of her in years. But that name, that memory—she was catapulted back to a night she had so desperately tried to erase.

It was a stormy evening, sophomore year. Sophie was at a party with Emma. They had been laughing, having a good time, drinking—until Emma decided to leave. Sophie didn't want her to leave, but Emma had insisted. They'd had a fight, but Sophie had let her go, figuring she'd be fine.

The next day, Sophie discovered that Emma had been in an automobile accident, a crash that had instantly killed her. Sophie had felt devastated. She had told herself it wasn't her responsibility, that she couldn't have done anything. But deep down inside, Sophie had always wondered: What if she had stopped? What if she had been with her?

The guilt had haunted her, and so had the silence. Sophie never talked about Emma's death, not even to her closest friends. She kept the pain suppressed, went on with her life, and never looked back.

But now, the past had caught up with her. Sophie's fingers trembled as she read the message on her phone. Whoever was sending these messages knew it all. They knew Emma, they knew the accident, and they knew Sophie's choices on that night.

Desperate, Sophie dug through old boxes in her closet, searching for something, anything, that could explain the connection. It was then she found it—a faded photograph of her and Emma at a party, both laughing, carefree. In the back of the photo, scribbled in Emma’s handwriting, was a note: “No regrets. We’re both going to make it.”

Sophie stared at the picture, her eyes burning with tears. Whatever had happened to Emma wasn't an accident—it was a consequence of Sophie's inaction. If only she had struggled more to stop her. If only she had been there to assist her.

The guilt clung to Sophie's chest like a boulder. She had tried to keep it buried, but the truth was never more than a hair's breadth away, lurking just beneath the surface, ready to burst forth at the worst possible time.

It wasn't until she went back to Emma's family house that the pieces fell into place. Sophie had avoided it since the funeral. But now, she needed answers. Emma's parents had always been nice to Sophie, but Sophie had never entirely confessed her guilt.

As Sophie sat with Emma's mother, her heart beat painfully in her chest. She couldn't look at her.

“I’ve received some strange messages,” Sophie began, voice shaky. “And I’m starting to think they’re connected to Emma’s death.”

Emma’s mother’s eyes widened. She nodded slowly. “I’ve been getting strange things too. Letters. Messages. Someone’s been watching us.”

Sophie felt a chill run down her spine. The messages weren’t just for her. They were meant for Emma’s family, too.

Sophie left the house, more confused than ever. Who was doing this? Who had a stake in bringing the past to her doorstep?

The next morning, Sophie came home to another letter on her front porch. She opened it, trembling in her hands. This one was different—more revealing. It read:

You still don't know the truth, Sophie. The truth regarding Emma and that evening. The truth that will destroy it all."

The letter ended with just a name: "Jordan."

Sophie wasn't familiar with the name at first. And then it struck her like a ton of bricks—Jordan was Emma's boyfriend that specific evening. The boyfriend Sophie never had the chance to meet.

Sophie's heart was racing as she realized that the truth she was running away from was not just about Emma—it was something else. Something she hadn't even thought of.

And now, Jordan was coming to her.

END.