The Missing Love Quote
The day of the party had finally come. The house was filled with excitement, decorated with shiny balloons and colorful ribbons. The smell of delicious food cooking in the kitchen made the air feel warm and welcoming. Soon, all my closest friends, family, and special guests would arrive, laughing and dancing to music. Everything was ready.
But not everything.
One very important thing was missing—the love letter I had written for Favour.
I had spent weeks writing that letter, carefully choosing every word to make sure it showed exactly how much I loved her. But now, with the party just hours away, the letter was gone. My heart pounded as I checked the time—10 AM. The party would start at 8 PM. I was running out of time.
I could have just typed a new message on my phone, but it wouldn't be the same. The words I had written on that paper came straight from my heart—messy, honest, and real. No text message could replace that. So I began searching everywhere.
First, I turned my room upside down. I threw clothes out of my wardrobe, digging through every pocket and fold. Nothing. I got on my hands and knees, looking under my bed where dust and old socks hid. Still nothing. I checked inside my shoes, behind my mirror, even inside my pillowcases.
Nothing.
Anger and fear twisted inside me. Where was it? I knew I had put it somewhere safe. Had it disappeared? Had someone taken it?
With no other choice, I rushed to my mother's room. Maybe, just maybe, I had left it there by accident.
Her door was unlocked. I slipped inside, my eyes scanning the room quickly. The soft smell of lavender filled the air, and sunlight peeked through the curtains. I searched everywhere—under her shoes, inside her bags, between the pages of her books.
Nothing.
I checked her bedside table, lifting up small boxes and jewelry. Nothing.
Then I saw her desk.
It was locked.
My hands clenched. Of course it was. I looked around for a key, checking under her pillows, inside drawers, even beneath her perfume bottles. No luck.
Time was slipping away.
I made a quick decision.
I grabbed a hammer from the toolbox in the hallway and, with one hard swing, broke the lock. The drawer creaked open.
And there it was.
My love letter.
A huge wave of relief washed over me. I grabbed the paper and held it close to my chest, as if it were the most precious thing in the world. But then—confusion. How did it get here? I didn't remember putting it in my mother's desk. Had it fallen in by mistake? Had someone hidden it here?
Before I could think too much, my phone rang.
The sound was so sudden that I almost dropped the letter. My hands shook as I pulled out my phone.
It was my mother calling.
My whole body froze.
Did she know I was in her room? Was she watching me? My heart raced as panic set in. I couldn't answer—not yet. I had to fix everything first.
I quickly put the letter in my pocket and turned to leave. But then something else caught my eye.
A big black book on the shelf.
The cover had one word written in gold letters:
SECRETS.
My fingers tingled with curiosity. The book looked old, like it had been sitting there for years. I reached for it, my heart pounding. What was inside? Why had I never seen it before?
Just as my fingers touched the book, my phone rang again.
My mother.
I swallowed hard.
I quickly put the book back, my mind racing. The desk was broken, the room was messy—I had to fix everything before she found out.
But as I hurried to clean up, one thought wouldn't leave my mind:
What secrets was my mother hiding?
And why did I feel like I wasn't supposed to find that book?
To Be Continued...