Chapter 2: The Voice From Fifteen Years Ago
I couldn’t speak.
For fifteen years, I had imagined what Amara’s voice would sound like if I ever heard it again.
In my dreams, she always sounded the same.
Young.
Laughing.
Calling my name from across the hallway of our childhood home.
But the woman on the phone didn’t sound like the sister I remembered.
She sounded tired.
Older.
Like life had taken every beautiful thing from her and forced her to fight to keep breathing.
“Nia?”” she whispered again.
My hand tightened around the phone.
“Where are you?””
There was a pause.
Not the kind people take when they’re thinking.
The kind people take when they’re afraid.
“I can’t tell you that.””
My heart cracked.
After everything, after fifteen years of searching, after finding proof that she was alive, she still sounded like she was trying to disappear.
“Amara, do you understand what you just did to me?””
My voice shook.
“You let me believe you were dead.””
“I know.””
“No, you don’t know.””
I stood up so quickly the chair scraped against the floor.
“You don’t know what it was like watching Mom sit by the window every night waiting for you. You don’t know what it was like hearing Dad say your name when he thought nobody was listening.””
The silence on the other end was painful.
Then I heard a quiet sob.
“I know.””
My anger stopped.
Just for a second.
Because that was Amara.
The same way she cried when we were children.
Quietly.
Like she was apologizing for having feelings.
“Why?”” I asked.
One word.
The question I had carried for fifteen years.
“Why did you leave?””
Another pause.
Then she answered.
“Because I thought leaving was the only way to protect you.””
I looked at Eli.
He was watching me from across the restaurant, his small hands wrapped around a glass of water I had given him.
Protect me.
That was the same thing Eli had said.
Someone didn’t want Amara found.
Someone had forced her into hiding.
I lowered my voice.
“Protect me from who?””
Amara didn’t answer.
That scared me more than anything.
“Amara.””
“I need you to listen carefully.””
Her voice became urgent.
“Do not bring Eli back here.””
I frowned.
“What?””
“Promise me.””
“No.””
“Nia—”
“No.””
My voice grew stronger.
“I spent fifteen years thinking you were gone. I just found out you have a son. I’m not letting you disappear again.””
A shaky breath came through the phone.
“You don’t understand.””
“Then explain.””
“I can’t.””
“Why not?””
Because I already knew.
Because whatever happened fifteen years ago was bigger than a family argument.
Bigger than a misunderstanding.
Bigger than someone simply choosing to leave.
Amara whispered:
“Because the person who destroyed my life is still watching.””
The restaurant suddenly felt too large.
Too empty.
I looked toward the windows.
The rain blurred the city lights outside.
“Who is it?””
No answer.
“Amara.””
A sound came from her side of the phone.
A cough.
A painful one.
My chest tightened.
“Are you okay?””
“I’m fine.””
“You sound sick.””
“I said I’m fine.””
But she didn’t sound fine.
She sounded like someone running out of time.
I closed my eyes.
“Eli said you’re sick.””
Silence.
“He shouldn’t have told you.””
“He was scared.””
“He shouldn’t have had to come find you.””
That sentence bothered me.
“What does that mean?””
Another silence.
Then:
“I didn’t send him.””
I looked at the boy.
“What?””
“He left without telling me.””
“Why?””
“Because he found my old photograph.””
I glanced at the picture on the table.
“He wanted to know about my family.””
Her voice became softer.
“He’s spent his whole life believing he was a mistake.””
My stomach twisted.
“No child should believe that.””
“I know.””
“Then why did you let him?””
“I didn’t.””
Her voice broke.
“I spent years trying to give him a normal life.””
I walked closer to Eli.
He looked away.
Like he didn’t want me to notice how much he was listening.
“Amara, what happened to you?””
This time, she didn’t avoid the question.
“When I left home, I wasn’t alone.””
I froze.
“What?””
“I was pregnant.””
The room seemed to tilt.
I grabbed the edge of the table.
“Pregnant?””
“Yes.””
“With Eli?””
“Yes.””
I looked at him again.
The boy who had been searching through garbage because his mother was sick.
The boy who carried a photograph like it was a piece of treasure.
My nephew.
For fifteen years, I thought Amara had disappeared.
But she hadn’t disappeared.
She had been hiding while raising a child.
“Why didn’t you tell us?””
A painful breath.
“Because someone made sure I couldn’t.””
“Who?””
“Nia…”
“No.””
I felt tears burning my eyes.
“You don’t get to protect me anymore. Not after all these years.””
She was quiet.
Then she said:
“Your fiancé knew.””
The words meant nothing at first.
My mind rejected them.
“What?””
“Your fiancé.””
I stared at the phone.
“What are you talking about?””
“When I disappeared, I was trying to tell you something about him.””
My fingers went numb.
A memory flashed.
A younger Amara standing in my bedroom doorway.
Her face pale.
Her hands shaking.
“Nia, you need to listen to me.””
And me.
Tired.
Annoyed.
In love with a man I thought was perfect.
“I don’t have time for this, Amara.””
Those were my last words.
I swallowed.
“My fiancé?””
“Yes.””
My voice dropped.
“Marcus?””
Another silence.
Then:
“Yes.””
The name felt like a stranger’s name.
Even though I had once planned my entire future around it.
“That’s impossible.””
“I wish it was.””
I sat down slowly.
Marcus had been my father’s business partner’s son.
He was charming.
Reliable.
Everyone loved him.
He was the man who held my hand through the years after Amara vanished.
The man who told me I needed to stop searching.
The man who said:
“Sometimes people leave because they want to.””
I remembered those words.
I remembered believing him.
No.
I refused to believe it.
“You’re wrong.””
Amara’s voice became sad.
“I hoped I was.””
My eyes moved to the photograph.
“Why would Marcus do this?””
“I don’t know everything.””
“You expect me to believe you?””
“I expect you to be careful.””
“Careful of my own fiancé?””
“He isn’t your fiancé anymore.””
The certainty in her voice frightened me.
“What does that mean?””
“He knows I’m alive.””
My breath caught.
“How?””
“Because he came to see me.””
The room went silent.
“When?””
“Three days ago.””
My heart started pounding.
“What did he say?””
Amara didn’t answer immediately.
When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper.
“He told me that if you ever found me…”
I waited.
“He would make sure neither of us got a second chance.””
The lights above me flickered.
For the first time that night, I wasn’t thinking about my lost sister.
I was thinking about the man I had trusted.
The man who had stood beside me for fifteen years.
The man who had comforted me while hiding the truth.
My phone suddenly buzzed.
A new message appeared.
I didn’t recognize the number.
But the photo attached made my blood turn cold.
It was taken inside my restaurant.
Tonight.
A picture of me kneeling beside Eli.
May you like
Underneath it were five words:
*You should have left him alone.*
