The Last Phone Call

Chapter 1: Secret club

I still remember the sound of the playground bell.

It was one of those ordinary afternoons in fifth grade when nothing important was supposed to happen. The sun was too bright, the pavement was too hot, and everyone was counting down the minutes until the final bell so we could run home and forget about homework.

My best friend, Lily, and I were sitting under the old tree near the edge of the schoolyard, sharing a bag of chips and making plans for the weekend.

“We should build a secret club,” she said, brushing crumbs off her jeans.

“A secret club for what?” I asked.

“For everything,” she replied, like that explained it. “For secrets. For adventures. For when we’re older and everyone else becomes boring.”

I laughed because Lily always said things like that. She had a way of making ordinary moments feel like they belonged in a movie.

She was the kind of friend who remembered tiny details. She knew my favorite candy, the name of my first pet, and the exact face I made when I was trying not to cry. If I had a bad day, she somehow noticed before I even admitted it.

That was why what happened next never made sense.

A few days later, Lily stopped coming to school.