The Missing Hours
Morning arrived like a cruel trick. The sunlight was too bright, too warm, as if mocking the hollow emptiness inside their minds. Ava stared at her phone for a long time before opening the group chat. The last memory she had was the words that still echoed in her skull.
Smile for me.
And then nothing. Hours gone. Stolen.
[Group Chat – “Us” | 8:04 AM]
Ava
….Do either of you remember falling asleep?
Ava
The last thing I remembered was—
Harper
It was the same for me. That thing texted “Smile for me” and everything went black.
Ava
He texted me, I’m smiling at you right now and next thing I woke up this morning. Like it stole the night.
Harper
Don’t tell me you slept peacefully.
Ava
Then what happened after the last text I sent.
The way he typed it—Enough—made Ava’s stomach tighten. She imagined his face behind the words, the way he always chose silence when truth pressed too close.
Harper
Stop being cryptic. If you know something, say it.
Noah
You don’t want me to.
Ava
We do. Because right now, I’m terrified, and the only thing I know is that something took hours from me.
Harper
Then what aren’t you saying?
Noah’s typing bubble appeared… then vanished. Appeared again. Then nothing.
As if the truth itself stalked him, ready to spill out but held back by something heavier.
Ava
This is about Lily, isn’t it?
Noah
Don’t bring her into this.
Ava
She already in it, Noah. She vanished and now we know is linked to this unknown.
The silence that followed was worse than any answer. Ava felt it pressing against her chest, that gnawing certainty that Noah knew. He knew what “Smile for me” meant. He knew why time dissolved like smoke.
But he wasn’t going to say it.
Not yet.
Harper
Fine. Keep your secret. But when it comes for us, don’t pretend you tried to warn us.
Her words hung sharp in the chat. Ava reread them with a chill crawling up her spine. Because no matter how angry Harper sounded, the truth was clear:
The Unknown had stolen their night.
And Noah knows something.
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