The Letter I Refused to Accept Chapter 03

The Letter I Refused to Accept Chapter 03

A rough, vicious voice spoke behind me. “Hand over anything valuable.”

In that instant, my breath caught. I went rigid and didn’t dare move.

When he dug the tip of the knife in harder, I held out my bag with shaking hands.

A second before he took it, I found strength I didn’t know I had, slammed the bag into his face, and ran for the nearest convenience store without looking back.

The night wind roared past my ears. I clenched my teeth, and my mind went completely blank.

By the time I stepped into the convenience store, my legs were so weak I could barely stand. The clerk grabbed me to keep me upright and called 911 for me.

The police got there ten minutes later. After they got the basic details, they drove me home.

On the way, I went through everything in my bag, and that was when I realized my phone had slipped out of my jacket pocket at some point.

I borrowed one of their phones to call Ruth and let her know I was okay.

One of the officers shook his head. “That area hasn’t been safe lately. A young girl like you shouldn’t be walking it alone. Couldn’t you get someone to pick you up?”

I didn’t say anything.

A long time ago, when I worked part-time off campus at night, Cole had worried about me and always insisted on picking me up. But after Chelsea came along, he picked me up less and less.

Now he didn’t even know where I was or when I got off work.

When I got home, Ruth came out of her room and handed me a tube of burn cream.

“Cole brought this by tonight. He said you got burned. What happened? Did something go wrong at work?”

I looked down at the unopened tube.

“It’s nothing. Getting burned waiting tables is normal. I rinsed it off. It’s not a big deal.”

Ruth sighed, told me to take care of myself, and went back to her room.

In the moonlight, I looked at the burn cream for a few seconds. Then, without any hesitation, I dropped it in the trash. Care that showed up too late didn’t mean anything to me anymore.

Early the next morning, the police called, and I went to the station to give another statement.

Before I left, they gave me back the phone I’d lost the night before. The screen was smashed to pieces.

I took it to a repair shop nearby. It took over an hour before it would even turn on.

The moment the screen lit up, a flood of notifications poured in. There were several missed calls from Cole the night before and a barrage of messages from both of them that morning.

Cole: [Where are you? Why aren’t you answering?]

Cole: [Did you delete the group chat? What are you throwing a fit about now?]

Chelsea: [Sienna, where are you? Your grandma said you left first thing this morning. Don’t forget it’s your birthday! Cole and I got you a present.]

I didn’t answer any of them.

The guy at the repair shop shook his head. “This phone’s pretty old. It can’t keep up anymore. Honestly, you’d be better off getting a new one while you’re here.”

After I asked how much a new one cost, all I did in the end was replace the screen protector.

Five minutes before I got home, I sent each of them a one-word reply.

Me: [Okay.]

For once, Cole answered right away.

Cole: [Come straight to my place.]

I looked at that line, and I didn’t say no. Some things needed to be settled face to face.

But the second I pushed his door open, I heard a soft click above my head. I looked up on instinct, and a heavy bucket of flour came crashing down on me.

The next second, I was buried in flour. It got up my nose and into my mouth, and I couldn’t stop coughing.

“Ha! She fell for it again. I knew I’d win the bet.”

The laughter grated on my ears. I wiped the flour out of my eyes and found the two of them in front of me, smirking.

“Sienna, you’re so gullible. How many times is that now, and you still fall for it?”

Ever since Chelsea showed up, I hadn’t had a single normal birthday. If she wasn’t hiding hot sauce in my cake, she was putting a toy snake in a gift box and taking pictures of me crying from fright.

And Cole had always defended her. He’d said they were only harmless pranks between friends and not to take it so seriously.

So I’d swallowed it every time, and every time, her pranks got meaner. But I’d had enough.

I picked up the bucket from the floor. It still had half its flour left. Without a word, I dumped it on the two of them.

“Sienna, are you insane?”