Unsolved Mystery (Nilacabb Series #1)

03

TW: Language

From: Kyra

Meet me.

She sent me the location—a restaurant near our university. I stared at the message, heart pounding. How was I supposed to excuse myself from my friends without raising suspicion? Fortunately, the boys were around, so I felt reassured enough to leave.

"Guys, I have an emergency. May kailangan akong puntahan. So, mauna na 'ko," I said, trying to sound casual.

"Okay. Take care," Lueese replied, waving at me with her usual warm smile.

I nodded, forcing a small smile in return, then left. I couldn’t let them know about this. They’d probably freak out. And honestly, I wasn’t even sure what evidence Kyra was talking about. I needed to confirm everything myself—especially if it involved Mikayla.

Since I didn’t have my car, I flagged down a taxi and gave the driver the address. The ride was filled with uneasy thoughts. Why did Kyra need to talk to me specifically? Then it hit me—if she’d gone to any of my friends, things would’ve escalated quickly.

The restaurant wasn’t crowded when I arrived. The faint hum of chatter filled the air as the smell of grilled food wafted through the room. Spotting Kyra seated at a corner booth, I marched toward her, my nerves on edge.

"Where’s the evidence?" I demanded the moment I reached her. I didn’t even bother sitting down, extending my hand instead.

Kyra smirked, leaning back against her chair. "You’re so rude. Wala man lang 'hello'? Or kiss?" she teased, her tone dripping with mockery.

"I don’t have time for your sick jokes, Kyra," I snapped. "Show me the evidence you’re talking about."

"Calm down. Take a seat muna," she said, motioning to the chair across from her.

Though hesitant, I sat down, my pulse racing. I couldn’t shake the unease building in my chest. Mikayla was my friend—I didn’t want to doubt her, but I couldn’t ignore what Kyra might reveal.

She pulled out a couple of plastic bags. One contained a handkerchief with initials embroidered in neat script: M.M.M.M.—Mikayla Maxine Martizano Morales. Another bag held a broken piece of glass, and a third contained a bloodstained tissue.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" I asked, frowning at the items.

Kyra raised an eyebrow, her smirk growing. "Look, honey. Kay Mikayla 'to, right?" She held up the handkerchief as if it were a trophy.

I stared at it, my mind reeling. Mikayla’s handkerchiefs always had her initials. She was the only one I knew with that specific monogram. Still, I tried to reason. "So? Malay natin kung naiwan niya lang 'to ro’n."

Kyra shook her head, her expression turning serious. She pointed to the broken glass. "Oh, so pati ito naiwan lang din?"

I glanced at her, confusion etched across my face. "Ano ang kinalaman ng bagay na 'to?"

"Listen, Chloe," Kyra began, her voice dropping lower. "I saw the CCTV footage. Mikayla was there. I saw her holding this." She tapped on the plastic bag with the glass. "And nakita rin natin na may nakasulat sa paa ni Aya gamit ang matalim na bagay."

Her words hit me like a brick. I felt the blood drain from my face. "Nakita mo ba lahat?"

"Na-cut ang video bago at pagkatapos ng pagpatay kay Aya. But I’m sure your friend killed my friend. Are you blind?"

I couldn’t respond. My thoughts were a mess, scrambling to make sense of everything. Mikayla wouldn’t—couldn’t—do something like that, right?

"And this tissue," Kyra continued, her voice cold. "It was found near the broken glass. The fingerprints on it? They all belong to Mikayla."