Chapter 3: The Secret Behind The Scissors
I stared at the message until my phone screen went dark.
Then I turned it back on.
I needed to make sure I had seen it correctly.
I hadn’t imagined it.
Someone had sent me a picture of the dress.
Someone wanted me to remember.
My father noticed my expression.
“What happened?””
I handed him my phone.
He read the message.
The muscles in his jaw tightened.
“When did you get this?””
“Just now.””
He looked toward the staircase.
Toward the rooms where Mia and Lauren were.
For the first time, I saw something I had rarely seen in my father.
Suspicion.
That night, nobody celebrated.
The graduation decorations stayed untouched.
The cake sat on the kitchen counter.
The balloons slowly lost air.
It was supposed to be one of the happiest days of my life.
Instead, it became the day I realized my own home wasn’t safe.
The next morning, my father knocked on my bedroom door.
“Aaliyah?””
I opened it.
He looked tired.
Like he had not slept.
“We need to talk.””
I stepped aside.
He sat on the edge of my bed.
“I checked the message.””
“And?””
“It came from a temporary number.””
My stomach tightened.
“So someone planned this.””
He nodded.
“Yes.””
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then he said something I didn’t expect.
“I think this has been going on longer than we realized.””
I frowned.
“What do you mean?””
He looked away.
“Your things.””
I froze.
“What about them?””
“Your missing jewelry last year.””
I remembered.
A necklace my mother gave me.
It disappeared for weeks before somehow appearing again.
“I thought I misplaced it.””
“I know.””
My father looked ashamed.
“But now I’m not sure.””
A cold feeling moved through me.
All those little moments.
My damaged textbooks.
My missing photos.
My ruined headphones.
Things I had ignored because I didn’t want to believe someone in my family would do them.
My father stood.
“I’m going to ask Mia.””
I grabbed his arm.
“Dad.””
He stopped.
“What if she lies?””
His expression hardened.
“Then we find the truth.””
But finding the truth was harder than we expected.
When he confronted Mia that afternoon, she didn’t deny anything.
She did something worse.
She laughed.
“You seriously think I ruined a dress because I’m jealous?””
My father stood across from her.
“I think you’ve been hurting Aaliyah for a long time.””
Mia’s smile disappeared.
“Wow.””
“What?””
“You actually believe her.””
My father frowned.
“Believe her?””
Mia shook her head.
“That’s the problem with Aaliyah. Everyone thinks she’s this perfect little survivor.””
I stood near the doorway, listening.
Mia continued.
“She gets praised for everything.””
“That isn’t true.””
“Yes, it is.””
Her voice rose.
“She works hard. She sacrifices. She’s so strong. Everyone loves that story.””
I stared at her.
Because suddenly I understood.
Mia didn’t hate my dress.
She hated what it represented.
“She makes me look like nothing,” Mia whispered.
My father’s expression changed.
“Mia.””
But she kept going.
“She’s the good daughter.””
The room went quiet.
“And I’m just the mistake.””
For a second, I almost felt sorry for her.
Almost.
Then she looked at me.
And that sympathy disappeared.
“You don’t understand what it’s like watching everyone choose her.””
I shook my head.
“No, Mia.””
My voice was calm.
“You don’t understand what it’s like to hurt someone just because you’re hurting.””
She looked away.
My father told her to go upstairs.
Later that evening, I was cleaning my room when I noticed something strange.
The scissors were gone.
The same silver scissors from that morning.
I had seen them.
I knew they were evidence.
But now they had disappeared.
I searched my desk.
My closet.
Under my bed.
Nothing.
Then I noticed a small envelope pushed beneath my door.
No name.
No writing.
Just my initials.
A.C.
My hands trembled as I opened it.
Inside was a printed photograph.
Not of my dress.
Not of graduation.
A picture of my mother.
I turned it over.
There was a sentence written on the back.
May you like
And when I read it, I felt the entire world stop.
“Ask your father why he never told you the truth about the night your mother died.””
