The afternoon sun slanted through the curtains, painting the living room in tired gold.
Elena sat at the table, flipping absently through a magazine she wasn't reading.
Maya walked in, carrying a stack of books. Her movements were hurried, nervous as if her very footsteps might betray her.
Elena looked up, smiling faintly as she calls in, Maya.
Maya froze at the voice of her name.
Yes! I'm right here.
Sit with me for a moment. Elena asked friendly.
The words sounded harmless, almost affectionate. But Maya hesitated before lowering herself into the chair across from Elena.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her hand trembling.
Elena set the magazine aside and leaned forward, her voice soft.
You've been… distant. Your laughter feels different these days. Heavier.
What's troubling you?
Maya's lips parted, but no words came.
She stared at her hands. I…. I've just been stressed. Exams. Projects. Everything.
Elena tilted her head, her eyes gentle, but piercing.
"You know, the worst lies aren't the ones told to others. They're the ones we tell ourselves."
The words landed like a weight between them. Maya flinched.
Elena, I….. She stopped, her throat tight. It felt like a confession about to drop but obstructed.
Elena smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.
You don't need to tell me now. Just remember, "truth has a way of finding its voice, whether we give it permission or not."
Maya's chest tightened, her eyes watering.
She wanted to confess, to fall at Elena's feet and beg forgiveness. But terror choked her. Instead, she stood abruptly, mumbling, I…. I think… I should get back to my room now.
Elena slowly watched her retreat, her smile fading into stillness. She had seen it, the tremor, the flicker of guilt, the hesitation that screamed louder than any confession.
That evening, Adrian noticed the tension when he came home.
Maya had left earlier, too flustered even to say goodbye. Elena was quiet, moving through the kitchen with deliberate calm.
Adrian tried to bridge the silence.
I noticed you've been watching Maya a lot lately.
Elena glanced at him, her expression unreadable.
Yes I do, she's like a sister. I care when she's… unsettled because it keeps me unsettled too. But whenever she keeps secret from me and I feel it, I become unsettled too.
He forced a laugh, too nervous. She's just young. Always worried about something.
Elena's eyes lingered on him, sharp as glass.
Yes. "Always worried about something."
Her tone carried a double edge, and Adrian felt it slice him. He wanted to speak, to protest, but the words tangled in his throat.
That night, Maya lay awake, her heart pounding.
Elena's words echoed in her ears: "The worst lies aren't the ones told to others. They're the ones we tell ourselves."
She whispered into the dark, as though confessing to no one:
It was a mistake… wasn't it? Just a mistake…
But the memory of Adrian's touch burned in her skin, and she knew the lie even as she spoke it.
Elena, meanwhile, stood by the window, staring out at the night sky.
Her reflection in the glass looked like a stranger, calm, patient and dangerous. She knew now. Not the full picture. Not every detail. But enough to sharpen her resolve.
Maya's guilt was the thread. And Elena was ready to pull until the whole tapestry unraveled.