THE LAST VOICE NOTE SHE NEVER OPENED

Lina's phone was on 3% when Becky called her for the last time. She saw her sister's name flashing across the screen while she was sitting in a crowded bus, trying to get home after another exhausting day at work. She almost answered, but the bus had become unbearably noisy, and she was already irritated from the heat, the traffic and the headache that had been sitting behind her eyes since afternoon. The call stopped. A few seconds later, Becky called again. Lina looked at the screen and sighed. “Becky, please. I'll call you when I get home.” But she didn't answer. She watched the call disappear. Then came a voice note. Becky — 11:48 p.m. Lina saw it. She even smiled a little because she knew her sister. Becky hated typing long messages. Whenever something was serious, she preferred to send a voice note and talk until she had said everything on her mind. Lina tapped the message. The phone froze. She tried again. Nothing. Her battery dropped to 2%. “Forget it,” she whispered. She put the phone in her bag and decided she would listen when she got home. That was the last decision she ever made about her sister. The next morning, Lina woke up to seventeen missed calls. For a few seconds, she couldn't understand why her phone was vibrating so violently. Then she saw her mother's name. She called back immediately. Her mother answered, but she didn't speak. “Mum?” There was crying on the other end. Lina sat up. “What happened?” Her mother's breathing became uneven. “It's Becky.” Lina's heart began beating faster. “What about Becky?” Her mother tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come. Finally, she whispered, “She's dead.” Lina stared at the wall. She actually laughed. It was a strange little laugh that escaped her because her brain couldn't understand what her mother had just said. “No, Mum.” “She was coming home last night.” “No.” “There was an accident.” “No, Mum. No.” “She didn't make it.” Lina stopped hearing anything after that. The room seemed to become very far away. She looked at her phone. The voice note was still there. Becky — 11:48 p.m. She pressed play. Nothing happened. She tried again. Still nothing. She restarted her phone. The voice note refused to play. Lina began crying. Not because she understood everything yet. She cried because there was suddenly so much she would never get to ask. Why did you call me? What happened? Were you scared? Did you need me? Did you know you were going to die? She travelled home that afternoon. The house was full of people. Neighbours came in and out. Relatives whispered in corners. Someone was crying in the kitchen. Her mother sat on the edge of the bed looking like someone had taken something from inside her and left an empty space behind. Lina walked into Becky's room. Everything was still there. Her clothes were hanging behind the door. Her books were scattered across the table. There was a half-used bottle of perfume beside her mirror, and one of her earrings was lying on the floor. Lina picked it up. That was when she broke down. She sat on the floor holding her sister's earring and cried so hard that her chest hurt. They had fought two days earlier. It had been something stupid. Becky had complained that Lina hadn't been checking on their mother enough. Lina had been tired and snapped at her. “You always think everything is my responsibility.” Becky had gone quiet. Then she said, “I didn't say that.” Lina remembered the silence that followed. She remembered Becky looking hurt. She remembered herself walking away. She had planned to call her the next day and apologise. There was no next day. That night, Lina lay on Becky's bed with her sister's phone beside her. Her own phone was still refusing to play the voice note. At around 2 a.m., she tried again. This time, it played. Becky's voice came through softly. “Lina…” Lina covered her mouth. For a few seconds, there was only breathing. Then Becky said, “I don't know if you're awake, but I need you to listen to me when you get this.” Lina closed her eyes. “I know we've been fighting lately, and I'm sorry. I don't want the last thing between us to be that argument.” Lina began crying. “I wanted to tell you something tonight, but I didn't know how to say it.” There was another pause. Becky sounded frightened now. “Lina, someone has been following me.” Lina sat up. “What?” The recording continued. “I don't know who it is. I've noticed the same car twice this week. Tonight, I saw it again outside the house.” Lina's breathing became shallow. “I told Mum, but she said I'm imagining things. Maybe I am. I don't know anymore.” There was a sound in the background. Becky stopped talking. For several seconds, there was complete silence. Then she whispered, “Someone is outside.” Lina's eyes filled with tears. She listened harder. Becky was breathing quickly. “I think they know I'm here.” There was a knock. One knock. Then another. Becky's breathing became louder. “Lina, if you hear this, please—” The recording stopped. Lina stared at the screen. She played it again. The same thing happened. She couldn't sleep. At 4:17 a.m., she finally went downstairs. Her mother was sitting alone in the living room. “Mum?” Her mother looked up. Lina held out her phone. “Did Becky tell you someone was following her?” Her mother's face changed. Only for a second. But Lina noticed. “Yes,” her mother said quietly. “Why didn't you tell me?” “I didn't think it was serious.” “She said she told you.” “I thought she was scared for nothing.” Lina stared at her. Then she noticed something on the table. A small brown envelope. Her name was written on it. Lina. Her hands began to shake. “What's that?” Her mother looked at the envelope. “I don't know.” Lina picked it up. Inside was a photograph. It was a picture of Lina and Becky as children, standing outside their old house. On the back, Becky had written something. Lina turned it over. If you're reading this, I couldn't tell you everything. There was another line underneath. Ask Mum about Dad. Lina stopped breathing. Their father had died when they were children. At least, that was what their mother had always told them. Lina looked at her mother. “Mum…” Her mother didn't answer. “Why would Becky tell me to ask you about Dad?” Her mother's eyes filled with tears. And then she said something Lina would spend the rest of her life wishing she had never heard. “Because Becky found out the truth.” Lina felt the room disappear around her. “What truth?” Her mother began crying. And before she could answer, Lina's phone vibrated. Another voice note had arrived. From Becky. The timestamp read 12:03 a.m. Lina stared at the screen. That was fifteen minutes after the first voice note. Fifteen minutes after Becky had said someone was outside. Fifteen minutes before the accident. Her finger hovered over the message. She couldn't bring herself to press play. Because suddenly, Lina understood something that frightened her more than the accident ever could. Becky hadn't sent her that final voice note because she thought she was going to die. She had sent it because she knew something Lina didn't. And whatever was inside that recording had been waiting for her. Lina looked at her mother. Her mother was still crying. Then Lina pressed play. And she heard her sister's voice say, “Lina, if Mum is with you right now, please leave the house.” The recording ended. Lina looked at her mother. Her mother was staring at her. And for the first time in her life, Lina was afraid of the woman who had raised her.

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