Chapter 1:The Smile Everyone Believed🖤🌙
Everyone loved Zaria’s smile.
They said it made sadness look like a stranger.
What they never knew was that she had practised it in front of a mirror—until even she believed it.Inside the last page of her notebook were six words she had never allowed herself to say:
I remember everything. I just stay quiet. I thought if I never said those six words again, I would never have to explain why i smile even when it hurts(sobs).
That night, Zaria stood before the mirror and smiled.
For a moment, she looked exactly like the girl everyone believed she was.
Then the smile faded.
And the secret looked back.
No one must ever find this page with these six words,i can't go through the explanation phase again(she paces around the room)even if I i try to pretend like everything's okay,it's still hard to forget the past and these six words that haunts me like a deathwish.
Well let me leave that aside.
She get up and tries on different clothes for her school tomorrow.
'I love being prepared for anything,anytime,anyday. Let me check the weather I don't want to look like a bozo wearing coats or sweaters in the hot weather 😂🌚,well that can never happen anyways😏,I've always got my things and responsibilities covered'.
She checks her phone,its 7:45,opens that camera app and admired her face. While smiling, her thoughts diverts back to those six words she never want to speak about. Then she immediately regains her thoughts back to where she is at present, then proceeds to the weather forecast
Forecast:TOMORROW IN CANADA OTTAWA 🇨🇦
LIGHT CLOUDS WITH SUN RAYS⛅️ .
Perfect it's sunny tomorrow.
She said with a smile.
Now that I know that its going to be sunny tomorrow,I'll obviously wear something that will allow the air to flow on my skin tomorrow...I also deserve happiness right?
The alarm on her phone rang at exactly 6:00 a.m.
Zaria reached out from beneath her blanket and silenced it without opening her eyes.
Five more minutes.
That was what she told herself.
Five minutes became ten.
Then fifteen.
“Zaria!”
Her eyes opened immediately.
“I’m awake!”
A laugh escaped her as she sat up.
“Of course you are,” her mother called from downstairs. “Your school is not going to wait for you.”
Zaria glanced at the clock.
6:17.
“Seriously?”
She threw the blanket aside and hurried out of bed.
Her room looked exactly like it always did—books stacked neatly on her desk, school bag leaning against the chair, a small collection of perfumes arranged beside her mirror.
Everything had its place.
Except her.
She stood in front of her wardrobe, staring at her uniforms as if choosing one was a life-changing decision.
White shirt. Skirt. Socks.
Simple.
Predictable.
Safe.
She got dressed quickly, tying her hair back before letting a few strands fall naturally around her face. Then she reached for her school bag.
Something stopped her.
The notebook.
It was lying beneath a textbook on her desk.
Zaria stared at it.
She shouldn't.
She knew she shouldn't.
But her fingers found the cover anyway.
She opened it.
Most of the pages were filled with things nobody would ever read.
Thoughts she couldn't say.
Questions she couldn't ask.
Names she never wrote completely.
She flipped toward the last page.
Six words stared back at her.
I remember everything. I just stay quiet.
Her fingers froze.
For a few seconds, the room became completely silent.
Then—
“Zaria!”
She shut the notebook.
“Coming!”
She slipped it into the bottom of her school bag and zipped it closed.
Whatever was written inside could stay there.
At least for today.
She walked back to the mirror.
There she was.
Neat uniform.
Perfectly arranged hair.
Calm expression.
She studied her reflection.
Then she smiled.
Not too much.
Just enough.
The girl in the mirror smiled back.
Nobody would know.
Nobody ever did.
Zaria grabbed her bag and headed downstairs.
“Morning,” she said brightly.
Her mother looked up from the kitchen counter.
“Morning, sweetheart.”
“You're late,” her mother teased.
“I know.”
“And you're smiling.”
Zaria paused.
Then she laughed.
“Am I not allowed to smile?”
“Of course you are.”
She picked up a piece of toast and slipped it into her mouth.
Her mother watched her for a moment before smiling too.
“Have a good day.”
“I will.”
Zaria walked toward the door.
Her hand rested on the handle.
For one strange second, she had the feeling that today would be different.
She didn't know why.
She didn't know how.
She only knew that something about the morning felt unfamiliar.
She pushed the thought away.
Outside, the street was already alive.
Cars passed.
Students walked toward school in groups.
People laughed.
People talked.
People lived their ordinary lives.
And Zaria joined them.
Smiling.
As always.
What she didn't know was that before the day ended, someone would say a name she had spent years trying to forget.
And for the first time in a very long time—
her smile would disappear.
The school gate came into view just as the morning bell rang.
Zaria quickened her steps.
“Zaria!”
She turned.
A girl was running toward her, one hand gripping the strap of her bag while the other waved wildly.
“Wait for me!”
Zaria laughed.
“You're the one who's always late.”
“I prefer fashionably delayed.”
“It's a school day, Amara.”
“Exactly. And I still look good.”
Zaria shook her head.
Amara caught up with her and immediately began talking about everything that had happened that morning.
Zaria listened.
She always listened.
That was one of the things people liked about her.
She remembered little things.
She noticed when someone's voice sounded different.
She knew when a smile wasn't real.
Funny.
Nobody seemed to notice when hers wasn't.
They entered the school building with the other students.
The familiar noise surrounded them—chairs scraping against floors, voices echoing through the hallway, teachers calling students to their classes.
Everything felt normal.
Until Zaria stopped walking.
Amara took two more steps before noticing.
“What?”
Zaria didn't answer.
Her eyes were fixed on the noticeboard.
There was a new piece of paper pinned to it.
A simple announcement.
WELCOME BACK, STUDENTS.
Nothing strange.
Nothing frightening.
Nothing worth staring at.
Except for the name written underneath.
Zaria's fingers tightened around her bag.
She read it again.
Daniel Adeyemi.
The hallway suddenly seemed too loud.
“Zaria?”
She blinked.
“What?”
“You okay?”
Zaria looked away from the noticeboard.
“Yeah.”
“You sure?”
She smiled.
There it was again.
The smile everyone believed.
“I'm fine.”
Amara studied her for another second before shrugging.
“Okay. Come on. We're going to be late.”
Zaria followed.
But her thoughts stayed behind.
Daniel.
She hadn't heard that name in years.
She had convinced herself she had forgotten it.
Apparently, she hadn't.
Inside the classroom, she took her usual seat near the window.
Sunlight spilled across her desk.
She opened her notebook and picked up her pen.
For a while, she tried to focus on the teacher.
Then a shadow crossed the doorway.
The classroom became strangely quiet.
Zaria looked up.
A boy stood beside the teacher.
Tall.
Quiet.
A school bag hanging from one shoulder.
His expression was unreadable.
The teacher smiled.
“Class, we have a new student joining us today.”
Zaria's pen slipped from her fingers.
The boy looked around the room.
Then his eyes found hers.
For one second, neither of them moved.
And Zaria knew.
She knew those eyes.
She knew that face.
She knew that silence.
The teacher continued speaking, but Zaria couldn't hear a word.
Because the person standing at the front of the classroom wasn't a stranger.
He was the reason for the six words hidden inside her notebook.
I remember everything. I just stay quiet.
And suddenly, Zaria wasn't sure she could keep doing that.
Zaria couldn't look away.
Daniel stood at the front of the classroom like he hadn't just walked into the one place she had spent years trying to forget him.
Like nothing had happened.
Like they had never met before.
Like she hadn't once promised herself that she would never see him again.
“Daniel, you can take the empty seat at the back.”
Zaria's heart sank.
The empty seat was directly behind her.
Of course it was.
Daniel nodded and walked toward the back.
Every step sounded louder than it should have.
Zaria lowered her eyes to her notebook.
Don't turn around.
Don't look at him.
Don't let him know you remember.
She picked up her pen and pretended to write.
Nothing came out.
A few seconds later, the chair behind her scraped against the floor.
He sat down.
Zaria's fingers tightened around the pen.
“Good morning.”
His voice was quiet.
She froze.
He wasn't talking to the teacher.
He was talking to her.
Zaria slowly turned around.
Daniel looked exactly the same.
And somehow completely different.
“Good morning,” she replied.
Her voice sounded steadier than she felt.
His eyes stayed on hers.
“You remember me.”
It wasn't a question.
Zaria smiled.
The same smile she had practised for years.
“I don't think we've met.”
Daniel stared at her.
Then, surprisingly, he smiled too.
“Right.”
He turned toward the board.
Zaria faced forward again.
Her heart was beating far too quickly.
She hated that he could still do this.
She hated that one sentence could bring back memories she had buried so carefully.
The teacher continued with the lesson.
Zaria wrote down every word on the board, even though she wasn't reading any of them.
Then something landed quietly on her desk.
A folded piece of paper.
She stared at it.
She didn't have to turn around to know who had sent it.
Slowly, she opened it beneath her textbook.
Only one sentence was written inside.
You can pretend you don't remember me, but I remember everything.
Zaria's smile disappeared.
For the first time that morning, she forgot to pretend.
She folded the paper and slipped it into her pocket.
Then she looked toward the window.
Outside, students were walking across the courtyard, laughing and talking as if the world hadn't just shifted beneath her feet.
Zaria took a slow breath.
She had spent years keeping one secret.
Now the person who knew it had returned.
And judging by the note in her pocket—
he hadn't come back to let her forget—
The bell rang.
Zaria closed her notebook immediately.
Students began pushing their chairs back, talking over one another as they rushed toward the door.
She stayed seated.
“Zaria?”
Amara appeared beside her desk.
“You're coming, right?”
“In a minute.”
Amara narrowed her eyes.
“You've been acting strange since this morning.”
“I haven't.”
“You have.”
Zaria smiled.
Amara sighed.
“That smile.”
“What about it?”
“You do that whenever you don't want to answer a question.”
Zaria's smile faded.
Before she could respond, a voice came from behind her.
“She's always done that.”
Zaria went still.
Amara looked between them.
“You two know each other?”
Daniel stood beside his desk, his expression unreadable.
Zaria answered before he could.
“No.”
Daniel's eyes met hers.
“Yes.”
Silence.
Amara's eyebrows lifted.
“Okay…”
Zaria stood quickly.
“I'll see you later.”
She grabbed her bag and walked out.
She didn't stop until she reached the quiet end of the corridor.
She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes.
Why now?
Why after all this time?
“Running away again?”
Her eyes opened.
Daniel stood a few feet away.
“I'm not running.”
“Then why did you leave?”
“Because I wanted to.”
He nodded slowly.
“You haven't changed.”
Zaria laughed quietly.
“You don't know me anymore.”
“I know you better than you think.”
She looked at him.
“Then tell me something about me.”
Daniel didn't hesitate.
“You still count when you're nervous.”
Zaria's expression changed.
He continued.
“You tap your fingers three times before you lie.”
She looked down.
Her fingers were perfectly still.
He smiled faintly.
“And you still smile when you're trying to hide something.”
Zaria's stomach tightened.
“Why are you here, Daniel?”
For the first time, his expression softened.
“I didn't choose to come back.”
“Then who did?”
He looked toward the classroom.
“I don't know.”
Zaria frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Daniel reached into his pocket and pulled out a small folded photograph.
He held it out to her.
Zaria stared at it.
“I found this yesterday.”
She took it.
The photograph was old.
Faded.
There were two children standing together in front of a familiar house.
One was Daniel.
The other was—
Zaria.
Her breath caught.
She turned the photograph over.
There was handwriting on the back.
Six words.
The same six words from her notebook.
I remember everything. I just stay quiet.
Zaria looked up sharply.
“Where did you get this?”
Daniel's expression had lost its usual calm.
“It was inside my mother's things.”
Zaria stared at the photograph.
There were memories she had buried.
Things she had refused to think about.
And suddenly, she realized something terrifying.
Maybe she hadn't been the only one keeping secrets.
Maybe she had been keeping someone else's secret too.
The bell rang again.
Neither of them moved.
Then Daniel whispered,
“Zaria…”
She looked at him.
“There is something you need to remember.”
“What?”
He looked toward the end of the corridor.
“Why we stopped being friends.”
And just like that—
the smile everyone believed in was gone.
Zaria stared at him.
“Why?”
Daniel didn't answer immediately.
Students passed them in the corridor, laughing and talking, completely unaware of the conversation happening between them.
Finally, Daniel lowered his voice.
“Because you asked me to.”
Zaria's eyebrows pulled together.
“I asked you to?”
“You told me to stay away from you.”
“I would never—”
She stopped.
A memory flickered.
A rainy afternoon.
A younger version of herself standing beneath the old mango tree behind her house.
Daniel beside her.
Someone shouting.
A door slamming.
Then nothing.
Zaria blinked.
The memory disappeared as quickly as it came.
Daniel noticed.
“You saw it, didn't you?”
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
“You remembered something.”
“No.”
“Zaria.”
She stepped back.
“Stop.”
Daniel immediately went quiet.
She looked down at the photograph again.
There was something else.
A tiny detail she hadn't noticed before.
In the corner of the picture was a woman.
Only half of her face was visible.
Zaria's breath caught.
She knew her.
She had seen that face before.
Not recently.
Years ago.
In the photograph sitting inside an old box in her mother's bedroom.
“Who is she?” Zaria whispered.
Daniel looked at the picture.
“I was hoping you could tell me.”
She looked up.
“You don't know?”
“No.”
“Then why bring this to me?”
“Because you were there.”
Zaria shook her head.
“I don't remember.”
Daniel's voice softened.
“Maybe you don't want to.”
Before she could respond, footsteps approached.
Amara appeared at the end of the corridor.
“There you are!”
Zaria quickly slipped the photograph into her notebook.
Amara stopped when she saw Daniel.
“Oh.”
Daniel nodded politely.
“Hi.”
Amara looked at Zaria.
Then at Daniel.
Then back at Zaria.
“Am I interrupting something?”
“No,” Zaria said quickly.
Daniel smiled.
“Yes.”
Zaria shot him a look.
Amara's eyes widened.
“Interesting.”
“Amara.”
“I'm saying nothing.”
She turned around dramatically.
“Come on, mysterious girl.”
Zaria followed her.
But before she left, she looked back.
Daniel was still standing there.
Watching her.
And somehow, she knew this wasn't the end of their conversation.
It was the beginning.
That afternoon, Zaria returned home and went straight upstairs.
She closed her bedroom door.
Locked it.
Then opened the drawer beside her bed.
At the very bottom was an old wooden box.
She hadn't touched it in years.
Her hand hovered over the lid.
She hesitated.
Then opened it.
Inside were things from a life she barely remembered.
A friendship bracelet.
An old school badge.
A dried flower.
And beneath them all—
Zaria picked it up.
Her hands began to tremble.
It was the same photograph Daniel had shown her.
Except hers had something his didn't.
Something written across the bottom.
A date.
And underneath it, four words:
The day everything changed.
Zaria stared at the photograph.
For the first time in years, she wondered whether forgetting had really been her choice.
Or whether someone had made sure she forgot.
She turned the photograph over.
There was one final message.
Don't trust the person who tells you the truth first.
Zaria's heart sank.
Because suddenly, she didn't know whether Daniel had returned to help her remember—
or to make sure she remembered the wrong thing
The next morning, Zaria didn't go straight home after school.
She went to the old library.
It was tucked behind the science building, almost forgotten by everyone except the students who needed somewhere quiet to study.
Zaria had always liked it there.
No questions.
No noise.
No pretending.
She pushed the heavy wooden door open.
The smell of old books greeted her.
Dust floated through the golden afternoon light coming through the tall windows.
She walked between the shelves until she reached the very back.
There was a small table beneath the window.
Her table.
At least, it had been.
Zaria placed her bag down and pulled out the photograph.
She studied it again.
The day everything changed.
She traced the writing with her finger.
“What happened that day?”
“You tell me.”
Zaria nearly dropped the photograph.
She turned.
Daniel stood between two bookshelves.
“How did you know I was here?”
“I didn't.”
“Then why are you here?”
He walked closer.
“To find the same thing you are.”
Zaria frowned.
“What?”
“The truth.”
She looked away.
“I don't know if I want the truth.”
Daniel stopped.
“Why?”
“Because sometimes forgetting is easier.”
He was quiet for a moment.
Then he said, “Maybe. But forgetting didn't make you happy.”
Zaria looked at him.
“What makes you think you know whether I'm happy?”
“Because I've seen you smile.”
She frowned.
“And?”
“You smile when you're uncomfortable.”
She looked down.
“And when you're scared.”
Her eyes lifted.
“And when you're lying.”
Zaria swallowed.
“Stop studying me.”
“I spent years trying to understand you.”
“Why?”
Daniel's expression changed.
“Because you were my best friend.”
The words hit harder than she expected.
Best friend.
A title that belonged to another version of herself.
A girl who remembered things Zaria couldn't.
Daniel reached into his bag.
He pulled out a small, battered book.
Zaria recognized it immediately.
Her eyes widened.
“That…”
“You remember?”
She stepped closer.
“My diary.”
Daniel nodded.
“I found it with the photograph.”
“You read it?”
“No.”
She stared at him.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I didn't read it.”
He held the diary out.
“Because the first page had your handwriting.”
Zaria took it carefully.
There was a sentence written across the first page.
If I ever forget, don't let anyone tell me who I was. Let me find out myself.
Zaria's breathing slowed.
She looked at Daniel.
“You knew I'd forget.”
“I knew you were scared.”
“Of what?”
Daniel opened his mouth.
Then stopped.
A sound came from the other side of the library.
A book falling.
Both of them turned.
Zaria's heart began to race.
“Is someone there?”
No answer.
Daniel moved toward the shelves.
Zaria followed.
They reached the end of the aisle.
Nothing.
Only an open window.
And on the floor beneath it—
a single white flower.
Zaria stared at it.
She knew that flower.
She had seen one before.
In the old photograph.
Daniel picked it up.
His expression changed.
“What's wrong?” Zaria asked.
He looked at her.
“That flower was there the day everything happened.”
Zaria's stomach dropped.
“But that was years ago.”
Daniel slowly looked toward the open window.
“Exactly.”
A cold breeze passed through the library.
And somewhere outside, hidden beyond the trees, a bell rang.
Once.
Twice.
Then silence.
Zaria tightened her grip on the diary.
For the first time, she realized something.
Someone else knew she was remembering.
And the
Zaria didn't move.
Neither did Daniel.
The library suddenly felt different.
The silence wasn't peaceful anymore.
It felt like someone was waiting.
“Let's go,” Daniel said quietly.
Zaria shook her head.
“No.”
He looked at her.
“I need to know who was here.”
“Zaria, we don't know if they're still—”
“I said no.”
She stepped toward the open window.
The curtain moved gently in the breeze.
Outside was the school garden.
Empty.
Except for a trail of white petals leading toward the old greenhouse.
Zaria stared at them.
“Those weren't there before.”
Daniel followed her gaze.
“No.”
They exchanged a look.
Then Zaria grabbed her bag.
“Come on.”
They left the library.
The path to the greenhouse was almost completely covered by overgrown plants. Very few students ever came this way.
Zaria pushed open the rusty gate.
It creaked loudly.
Inside, sunlight passed through dusty glass panels, creating strange patterns across the floor.
Daniel walked behind her.
“You sure about this?”
“No.”
She continued anyway.
At the far end of the greenhouse was an old wooden cabinet.
Zaria stopped.
Something about it felt familiar.
She reached for the handle.
Locked.
Daniel searched the nearby shelves.
“Try this.”
He handed her a small key.
She stared at it.
“Where did you get that?”
“It was in the library.”
Zaria slowly inserted it into the lock.
Click.
The cabinet opened.
Inside were old school records, photographs, and several notebooks.
Zaria picked up the first photograph.
Her face went pale.
It was her.
Younger.
Standing beside Daniel.
Both of them were smiling.
But someone had scratched a dark line across Daniel's face.
“What happened to this picture?” she whispered.
Daniel took it from her.
“I don't know.”
Zaria looked through the other photographs.
There were dozens.
Different days.
Different places.
Always the same two people.
Her and Daniel.
Then she found one that made her stop.
It showed the two of them standing outside the greenhouse.
On the back was a handwritten message.
If you're reading this, you remembered too late.
Zaria's fingers went cold.
“Daniel…”
He looked over.
Before either of them could speak, the greenhouse door slammed shut.
Zaria spun around.
Locked.
“Daniel?”
He tried the handle.
“It's stuck.”
A shadow moved across the glass.
Zaria froze.
Someone was standing outside.
Watching them.
She stepped backward.
The shadow disappeared.
Then her phone buzzed.
One new message.
Unknown number.
You were never supposed to find the greenhouse.
Zaria stared at the screen.
Another message appeared.
And Daniel was never supposed to come back.
She looked at him.
He had read it too.
For the first time since he returned, Daniel looked genuinely afraid.
“Zaria…”
“What?”
He stared at the message.
“I think we made a mistake.”
“What mistake?”
He looked toward the locked door.
“We started remembering.”
And somewhere outside the greenhouse—
someone laughed.
The laugh disappeared as quickly as it came.
Zaria stared at the greenhouse door.
“Who is that?”
Daniel didn't answer.
He was staring at the old photographs scattered across the table.
“Daniel?”
He picked up one of them.
His face changed.
“What?”
He turned the photograph toward her.
It was the same picture they had found earlier.
Zaria and Daniel stood beneath the old mango tree, smiling at the camera.
But this time, she noticed something she hadn't seen before.
There was a third person in the picture.
Someone standing behind them.
A girl.
Zaria's heart stopped.
“Who is she?”
Daniel shook his head.
“I don't know.”
Zaria took the photograph from him.
She looked closer.
The girl was wearing the same school uniform.
The same bracelet.
The same necklace.
Then Zaria noticed her face.
Her own face.
She stepped backward.
“No…”
Daniel stared at her.
“Zaria?”
“That can't be me.”
The girl in the photograph looked exactly like her.
Not similar.
Exactly.
Zaria's fingers began to tremble.
Then she remembered something.
A mirror.
A bedroom.
A little girl standing in front of it.
Someone's voice saying:
“There are two things you must never forget.”
Zaria closed her eyes.
“What were they?”
Daniel looked confused.
“What?”
She whispered,
“I remember.”
The greenhouse suddenly went silent.
Zaria opened her eyes.
“The girl.”
Daniel stared at her.
“What girl?”
“The girl in the photograph.”
She looked at him.
“She wasn't standing behind us.”
Daniel frowned.
“Then where was she?”
Zaria slowly turned the photograph over.
There was new writing on the back.
Writing that hadn't been there before.
She wasn't another girl.
Zaria's breath caught.
A second line appeared beneath it.
She was you.
The lights inside the greenhouse flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then everything went dark.
When the emergency lights came on, Daniel was standing alone.
Zaria was gone.
He spun around.
“Zaria?”
No answer.
The photograph lay on the floor.
Daniel picked it up.
His hands went cold.
The third figure was no longer in the picture.
Only Zaria and Daniel remained.
And beneath the photograph was a final note.
You found the wrong memory.
Daniel stared at it.
Then his phone buzzed.
One message.
From Zaria's number.
Don't trust Daniel.
He looked toward the empty greenhouse.
His face went pale.
Because the message had been sent—
three years ago.
