Whispers After Midnight: The Promise
img img Whispers After Midnight: The Promise img Chapter 4 Tears in Whispers
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Chapter 6 4:43 p img
Chapter 7 Loud Whispers img
Chapter 8 A Glimpse and a Memory img
Chapter 9 That Familiar Frame img
Chapter 10 Dots and Disrespect img
Chapter 11 The Message img
Chapter 12 HELP. A phone number. LIE img
Chapter 13 Damn You Noah!! img
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Chapter 4 Tears in Whispers

The moment I stepped into the house, the weight on my chest collapsed. I didn't make it past the hallway. I dropped my suitcase, threw my shoes off, and ran straight into Nana's arms.

She opened them without a word, catching me just in time as I broke into sobs. My body shook. My fingers clutched her shirt like I was drowning and she was the only thing keeping me afloat.

"Baby girl," Nana whispered, brushing her hand through my hair. "Talk to me. What happened?"

I couldn't speak. I just cried harder. Nana rocked me gently like I was five years old again.

"Mia... you're scaring me now. You're home? Did something happen at school?" I pulled back slightly, enough to see her worried eyes.

But I couldn't answer. Words stayed trapped in my throat. If I opened my mouth, I'd scream. I wasn't ready to relive it. Not yet.

Nana sighed and cupped my face. "It's okay. You don't have to talk right now. Come on, let's get you inside."

I nodded, wiped my face, and let her lead me into the living room. The familiar scent of fresh cookies filled the air, but I didn't have an appetite.

I curled up on the couch, hugging a throw pillow like it was a lifeline.

I had never been in love before Noah. Never let a guy get close. But somehow, I let him in. He wasn't my type, not even close. Arrogant, reckless, charming in the most dangerous way.

He was Raven's brother - a red flag on fire - but still, I fell. And Raven... how could she?

"You want me to make tea?" Nana asked gently.

I shook my head, voice barely a whisper. "I just want to sleep."

She nodded, placing a blanket over me. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything."

As soon as she left, I closed my eyes, and the memories returned like lightning - Noah's smirk, his laugh, his lips on my forehead, Raven's reassuring voice saying, "He's changed, Mia. He likes you. He's not the same guy anymore."

Lies. All lies.

I stayed home for two weeks. Raven blew up my phone - texts, calls, voice notes. She messaged me on every social platform.

I didn't open any of it at first. Then curiosity got the better of me. I read them.

> Mia, please. Talk to me. Where are you? I'm so worried. I'm going to ask Noah what happened. I swear I'll fix this.

Fix what? The damage was done.

She messaged again.

> I talked to Noah. He said you disappeared after he went to the restroom. He didn't know where you went. He thinks Ava might have said something to you... Mia, please, if she has hurt you, I'll deal with her myself. Nobody messes with my best friend like that.

I rolled my eyes. Best friend? Please. If she cared, she would've never pushed me toward her brother.

She wouldn't have convinced me to be his date. She wouldn't have stood by while he played with my heart.

I blocked her. She tried reaching out through Nana next. My parents, too.

They kept asking what was wrong, but I stayed locked in my room, headphones in, heartbroken.

I felt stupid. Embarrassed. Crying over Noah? Disgusting.

Mom and Dad came in one night, sat on the edge of my bed.

"Is this about a boy?" Mom asked.

I looked away.

She exhaled deeply; Dad narrowed his eyes. But they didn't push. Not yet.

They called Raven behind my back.

"Mia hasn't spoken to anyone," my mom said. "We thought maybe she told you something."

"Told me something? I don't even know where she is!" Raven sounded panicked.

"Wait... she's home?"

"Yes. Came back suddenly. Wouldn't talk. Just crying."

Raven was quiet for a moment. Then she called back.

"She left our apartment the morning after the convocation party," she explained. "No goodbye. Nothing. I thought she'd gone to a friend's place. But when I tried reaching her... she just kept ignoring me."

That was the final piece.

Later that night, my mom entered my room again.

"Did something happen at that party?" she asked softly.

I looked up with tired eyes.

"No. I just missed home."

Lie. I didn't miss home. I was running from shame, heartbreak, and betrayal.

I swept it all under the rug.

Before the end of my two-week break, I searched online for apartments near campus. I found one, paid instantly, and kept it a secret. When I returned to school, I didn't go back to the shared apartment. I moved my things in silence. No calls. No messages. Just distance.

The first time Raven saw me at school, she rushed up, breathless. "Mia! You're back! Where have you been? I was dying-"

I walked past her like she was invisible. Raven froze. Her hands trembled. "Mia, please! Don't do this. Just tell me what I did. Please."

I didn't even blink. It continued that way. Day after day. Silent passing in corridors. Avoided stares.

I avoided Raven like the plague. Whenever I saw her in class, I acted like she didn't exist. She tried to talk. I ignored her. She waited after lectures. I walked the other way. She left notes. I threw them out.

Eventually, she gave up. And I let her go.

Final exams came. I poured my pain into every page, every presentation, every project. I aced everything. Best graduating student in my department.

My name echoed in the halls, but I didn't smile. Not really.

Graduation day came and went. I stood tall, smiled for the cameras, but my heart stayed cold.

Immediately after school, I started working at our family's studio. The biggest film and television production company in Times Square. Production manager at twenty-five. It was my dream, and I gave it everything.

Early mornings, late nights. I had no time to think about love. No space to let anyone in.

I tried dating a few men. Handsome. Educated. Polite. But none of them reminded me of my father. All of them reminded me of Noah in the worst ways.

The moment they raised their voice, played mind games, or acted like they could own me, I walked away.

I tried giving it one last shot again. Once. Maybe twice. Yet nothing stuck. They weren't like Dad. And I wasn't willing to settle for less.

Then, one ordinary afternoon seven years later, I stepped out of a café, balancing my phone and coffee, after a stressful orientation for my Master's program at The University of the Arts London (UAL) in the United Kingdom.

My hair flowed in curls down my back, my eyes hidden behind dark shades. My phone buzzed in my hand. I glanced at it, distracted.

And then I accidentally bumped into someone.

I gasped. The woman clutched her belly. A rounded belly.

My eyes traveled up - and my breath caught.

            
            

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