Chapter 4 Traps on the track

The silence in the house was unnerving. No distant hum of a TV. No footsteps echoing from the upstairs hallway. Just the eerie buzz of stillness.

I sat at the edge of my bed, staring blankly at the half-open drawer of my dresser. A part of me felt suspended in time since the night I found Dad-his body soaked in his own blood, cold and lifeless. No note. No sign of a struggle. But everything about it screamed murder.

It had been exactly three weeks since I buried him. Three weeks of grieving alone while the world moved on. Three weeks of avoiding Luna's eyes and letting Zaria's touch soothe the ache. Three weeks of pretending I wasn't broken beyond recognition.

I opened my journal, ran my fingers over the clean page, and wrote slowly:

"Whoever did this, I will find you. I swear it on the last breath my father took."

A knock at the door jolted me.

"Skye," Luna called softly. "Can I come in?"

I paused. Luna had been gentle since the funeral, overly attentive even. But something about her presence always felt... off. Still, I nodded.

She came in, holding a glass of water and a worn paperback. "You haven't eaten."

"I'm not hungry," I muttered.

"You've got to stop shutting everyone out. Even me."

I didn't reply. Instead, my eyes wandered to the necklace around her neck-a tiny pendant in the shape of a moon. It caught the sunlight peeking through the curtains.

"Nice pendant," I said suddenly.

She touched it instinctively. "Oh, this? My mom gave it to me when I was little."

"You've never worn it before."

She shrugged. "Didn't think it mattered."

Silence crept in again.

"Luna..." I hesitated. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"Do you think someone killed my dad?"

Her breath caught. "What makes you say that?"

I sat up straighter. "Because things don't add up. The bruises on his arms. The missing file I kept in the study. And... the way you found me sobbing beside his body-you didn't look surprised."

Luna's face stiffened. "I was in shock."

"Were you?"

She opened her mouth, then closed it. "I don't know what you're getting at, Skye, but this-this is grief talking."

"Maybe." I reached for the small stack of letters I found in Dad's safe. "Or maybe someone's trying very hard to make sure I don't find out the truth."

Luna's gaze darted to the letters.

"I just want answers," I said. "That's all."

She nodded and stood. "Then we'll find them. Together."

But I wasn't sure I believed her.

---

Later that evening, Zaria and I met by the lakeside behind her house. The water was still, almost glass-like under the moonlight. She handed me a flask of hot coffee and pulled me into a blanket on the grass.

"You need rest," she murmured, brushing my hair from my eyes.

"I need closure."

"I know." She kissed my forehead. "And you'll get it."

There was something safe about her arms, even when my mind was at war with my emotions. I tilted my head to kiss her-soft, slow, desperate. She tasted like cinnamon and unspoken truths.

As we pulled away, I asked, "Do you think Luna's hiding something?"

Zaria didn't answer immediately.

"She's always been possessive," she said finally. "It's not new."

"She was acting weird today. Nervous."

Zaria glanced out at the lake. "Don't trust her completely."

"I'm not sure I trust anyone."

"Do you trust me?" she asked, eyes searching mine.

I hesitated. "I want to."

She kissed me again, slower this time. Her hands slid up my thighs and under my shirt, and I let her-for a moment forgetting death, betrayal, and darkness. It was just us, skin on skin, beneath the night sky.

---

When I got home, Luna was asleep on the couch. Her journal lay open beside her, pages fluttering in the breeze from the cracked window.

Curiosity tugged at me.

I shouldn't.

But I did.

I reached for it and flipped through the pages. At first, it was filled with mundane things-class notes, lyrics, sketches.

Then, a page caught my eye.

"She doesn't know. She must never know. He said not to tell her."

I read it twice.

Who?

Who must never know what?

And then...

"The document is still missing. If she finds it, everything falls apart."

My stomach clenched.

What document?

I snapped a picture of the page before quietly placing the journal back beside her.

---

The next day, I visited my dad's lawyer. He was an older man with thin glasses and a kind smile that made me nervous. He sat across from me, folding his hands.

"I was surprised you called," he said. "You never came to the reading."

"I wasn't ready," I said. "But now I need answers."

He nodded slowly. "Your father left behind... a video."

"A video?"

He reached into a locked drawer and pulled out a flash drive. "It was to be handed over only if you came personally."

My hands trembled as I took it.

"There's more," he said, hesitating. "He had suspicions. About people around you. He wrote them down."

He handed me an envelope marked:

To my daughter, should the darkness ever reach her.

I clutched it to my chest. "Thank you."

---

At home, I locked myself in my room and plugged the drive into my laptop.

The screen flickered before the video played.

My father appeared, older and weary, his eyes heavy with something deeper than sadness.

"If you're watching this, Skye, I'm probably dead."

I choked back a sob.

"There are people who want things I have. People I once trusted. People I once loved. If they've hurt you... if Luna has hurt you-"

I paused the video.

My blood ran cold.

Did he just say Luna?

I played it again.

"If Luna has hurt you, know this-I never wanted you caught in this."

My hand flew to my mouth. I couldn't breathe.

---

I opened the envelope.

Inside was a single sheet of paper with a list of names.

My stepfather.

Officer Kalu.

Luna.

And a name I didn't recognize-Zeke Aladimeji.

At the bottom:

They all work for him. Be careful. Don't trust anyone.

And finally:

Ask her what really happened the night your mother died. Ask her.

Her.

Who? Luna?

Or... Zaria?

My chest tightened.

Everything was unraveling.

And I was right in the center of it.