A Guilty Secret

My name is Mia Lloyd.
Today is my birthday.
I stand beneath the old locust tree at the village entrance, waiting for Mandy.
Mandy is my best friend.
She said yesterday that she would bring me a birthday cake.
By the time the sun was about to set, I was still waiting for her.
I felt uneasy and walked along the path toward her house.
As I passed the reeds by the riverside, I heard strange sounds.
I parted the reeds and saw a scene I will never forget for the rest of my life.
Mandy was curled up on the ground, her clothes torn to shreds.
The figure of a man was pressed down on her.
I was so terrified that I covered my mouth, afraid to make a sound.
The man seemed to sense something and turned his head to look back.
I saw his face clearly, but I felt frozen, unable to move.
After the man left, I rushed over to help Mandy to her feet.
Mandy's eyes were vacant; she didn't say a single word.
I tried to help her straighten her clothes, but she pushed me away.
"Don't touch me." Her voice sounded like broken glass.
I took off my coat and wrapped it around her.
She hugged her knees, her shoulders trembling uncontrollably.
I asked if she wanted to go home, but she only shook her head.
That night, I sat with Mandy in the reeds for a long time.
I wanted to tell her mother, Madeline, but Mandy wouldn't let me.
"Mia, don't tell anyone, please." She grabbed my hand, her nails nearly digging into my skin.
I nodded, but inside, it felt like a heavy stone was pressing down on me.
Early the next morning, I heard the news about Mandy.
She had hanged herself from a beam in her own home.
I ran to her house, almost like a woman driven mad.
Madeline sat on the doorstep, her eyes swollen and red like walnuts.
Mandy's body lay there, covered with a white cloth.
I didn't dare lift it—only feeling as if the world was spinning around me.
I remembered the birthday cake Mandy had brought me yesterday.
The cake box was still on the table at my house.
Suddenly, I recalled that man had touched the cake box.
There must have been his fingerprints on it.
I ran home, grabbed the cake box, and sprinted toward the riverside.
I threw the box into the river, watching it drift away with the current.
I thought that way, no one would ever find out.
But when I turned around, I saw Madeline.
She stood not far off, her eyes bloodshot.
"Why did you throw it away?" Her voice was soft, yet it cut into my heart like a knife.
I didn't dare speak, only took a step back.
Madeline approached me slowly and pulled a piece of paper from her pocket.
"This is Mandy's suicide note." She said as she handed the paper to me.
I took the note, my hands trembling uncontrollably.
The handwriting on the note was jagged, but I could read every word clearly.
"Mia might have seen that person. I don't know if she will say anything. I'm so scared..."
At that moment, tears suddenly streamed down my face.
Madeline looked at me, tears streaming down hers as well.
"You saw it, didn't you?" She asked me.
I still dared not speak, only biting my lip.
The wind swept through the reeds by the riverside, rustling as if they were crying.

The next day, the news about Mandy spread throughout the village, along with the story of me throwing away the cake box.
Villagers surrounded the entrance to my house.
Madeline stood at the front, her eyes red-rimmed.
"Mia, you threw away the cake box. Were you trying to cover up for the perpetrator?" Someone shouted at me loudly.
I stood behind the door, clutching the doorframe tightly.
"Did you see who the perpetrator was? Why don't you say it?" Another person asked.
I shook my head and said, "I didn't see."
"If you didn't see, why did you throw away the cake box?" Someone didn't believe me.
"There was something dirty on that box; I didn't want to keep it." I made up a lie.
But no one believed me.
"Mandy's suicide note said it all — you might have seen!" Madeline's voice trembled with tears.
"I really didn't see." I buried my face in my arms, too afraid to meet their eyes.
Suddenly, someone shoved me.
I lost my footing and fell to the ground.
"You heartless wr*tch! Mandy was right to stop being friends with you!" An older woman pointed her finger at my nose and shouted.
I lay on the ground, tears seeping into the dirt.
I knew I was wrong, but I didn't dare to say a word.
Just then, a familiar voice rang out.
"Don't bully her!"
I looked up and saw Sara Cobb.
Sara Cobb is my lifelong friend; we grew up together.
She pushed through the crowd, came to my side, and helped me up.
"Mia said if she didn't see it, then she didn't see it. On what grounds do you treat her this way?" Sara Cobb stared at the villagers, her gaze sharp and fierce.
"She threw away the evidence—there's clearly something wrong!" someone protested.
"Evidence? Who among you actually saw any evidence on that box?" Sara Cobb shot back.
The villagers glanced at one another in silence.
Sara Cobb held my hand and told the villagers, "The police will investigate this. Don't stir up trouble here."
Then she pulled me inside.
The villagers kept whispering outside, but their voices had already faded from my hearing.
I sat in the chair, trembling all over.
Sara Cobb handed me a glass of water and asked, "Did you really see it?"
I looked at Sara Cobb, opened my mouth, but still said nothing.

Sara Cobb sat across from me, staring intently.
I didn't dare meet her gaze, only stared at my own hands.
"Mia, tell me the truth—did you see the perpetrator?" Sara Cobb asked again.
My heart felt as if something was gripping it tightly, aching fiercely.
I remembered Mandy's hollow eyes, the words from her suicide note.
I also remember the man's face.
I want to tell Sara Cobb, but I don't dare.
I'm afraid that if I speak up, something even worse will happen.
"I..." I opened my mouth, but still couldn't say the words, "I saw it."
Sara Cobb sighed and said, "Mia, Mandy was our best friend. If you saw what happened, you have to speak out. We can't let the perpetrator go free."
"I didn't see anything." I closed my eyes and said those words.
Sara Cobb looked at me, her eyes filled with disappointment.
"Are you really sure you didn't see anything?" She asked once again.
I opened my eyes, looked at Sara Cobb, and asked her in return, "Do you truly believe me?"
Sara Cobb was stunned; she hadn't expected me to ask that.
"I..." She opened her mouth but said nothing.
At that moment, a commotion rose from outside.
Sara Cobb and I quickly went out to see what was happening.
It turned out the villagers were making a ruckus outside my house once again.
Madeline stood amid the crowd, then suddenly went limp and collapsed.
"Madeline!" I rushed over at once.
The villagers panicked too and hurriedly carried Madeline inside.
Sara Cobb went to call the village doctor.
I sat by the bedside, watching Madeline's pale face, feeling even more deeply troubled.
After the doctor arrived, he took Madeline's pulse.
"She fainted from overwhelming grief, mixed with anger," the doctor said. "Let her rest well and don't upset her further."
I nodded.
When the villagers saw that Madeline had fainted, they no longer dared to cause a scene and slowly dispersed.
Sara Cobb looked at me and said, "Mia, whether you saw it or not, you need to be clear—this can't go on like this."
I know Sara Cobb means well, but I truly don't know what to do.

After Madeline woke up, she kept crying.
I watched her, filled with guilt.
But I still didn't dare to speak the truth.
The next day, the police arrived.
They asked me about Mandy and why I threw away the cake box.
I told them again that I hadn't seen the perpetrator, and I threw the box away because it was dirty.
The police didn't press further, only instructing me to share any leads I might find.
After the police left, the villagers looked at me with even stranger eyes.
Some say behind my back that I'm an accomplice to the perpetrator; others say I'm too afraid to offend anyone to speak out.
I don't dare go outside and can only stay at home.
I lock myself in my room, refusing to eat or drink.
My grandmother is very worried about me and keeps urging me to eat.
But I have no appetite at all.
Every day, I think about Mandy—about how she was when she was alive.
I also think about the perpetrator, wondering if he will come looking for me again.
A few days passed like this, until the day of Mandy's funeral arrived.
I want to see Mandy off one last time, but I'm afraid of what the villagers will say about me.
My grandmother urged me to go, saying Mandy was my good friend and I should see her off.
I still gathered my courage and went with my grandmother.
When we arrived at the cemetery, I saw Madeline.
She was dressed all in black, her hair messy and tangled, looking exhausted and worn.
I wanted to approach her to say something, but when she saw me, her eyes were filled with hatred.
I didn't dare get any closer and could only stand at a distance.
Halfway through the funeral, someone suddenly shouted, "Madeline is missing!"
Everyone hurried to search everywhere.
In the end, someone found Madeline by the riverside.
She had already jumped into the river and was floating on the surface.
"Madeline!" I ran over like a madwoman.
The villagers hurried over and pulled Madeline out.
But it was too late; Madeline had no breath left.
I looked at Madeline's body, my legs gave way, and I sank to the ground.
I felt that I had caused Madeline's death. If I had spoken the truth sooner, she wouldn't have died.
The villagers grew even angrier when they saw that Madeline was dead.
They all turned their anger toward me.
"It's all your fault! If you had revealed the perpetrator sooner, Madeline wouldn't have died!"
"You accomplice of a murderer!"
Someone even rushed at me, trying to strike me.
My grandmother quickly shielded me.
Just then, Sara Cobb arrived.
She was holding her big dog, a fierce animal that no one dared to provoke.
Sara came up to me, looking me in the eye with a gaze as cold as ice.
"Mia, are you going to speak or not?" She asked me.
The big dog bared its teeth at me and growled low.
I was so frightened that I stepped back.
"If you don't speak, I'll have my dog bite you!" Sara's voice was resolute.
I looked at Sara Cobb, then at the big dog, my heart a churn of fear and pain.

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