Entry #35: Letter

I studied the letter again and again, hoping to find clues I overlooked the first time I read it. Aside from the messy, thick, and dried white inks at the bottom, none seemed unordinary.

'Did she make a mistake and covered it up with a correction ink?'

"When did you get this?" I asked Mrs. Reyes.

"October 5. I remember clearly because that was the day my whole world crumbled."

Wait, wait, wait!

I scanned the letter for the nth time. I definitely would find something if I looked hard enough.

I looked at the floor and analyzed what she said. Hundreds of crazy questions flooded my mind, so I had to pause and sift them out.

"October 5. That's three days after she disappeared."

Simon's eyes widened. "That's odd!"

"It was strange to me," Mrs. Reyes shared. "I suddenly found the letter on her floor. I often stayed in her room when she disappeared, and I cried there every night. There is no way I wouldn't find that letter on the floor."

"Did you speak to the police about this?" I asked.

"I did. When her body was found, I talked to the police. And they thought I was probably having delusions because I can't cope with her passing. That it was probably on the floor the entire time."

"If this is a real suicide note, she should have written this before she disappeared. But look…" I pointed to the date indicated in the letter. "It says October 4. Angel liked to write journals, and she was used to putting down dates."

Mrs. Reyes sat up straight. Her eyebrows wrinkled. "What are you implying?"

"She wrote this letter the day after she was kidnapped," I answered. "Which highly indicates that she was forced to write a suicide letter."

Mrs. Reyes snatched the letter from my hands. "You're right… it says October 4. Oh my god…"

She broke down in tears once again. "What happened to my baby?"

She looked torn, confused, and hurt. She probably felt relieved, thinking her daughter wasn't that lonely to kill herself. But she couldn't be that relieved as well because it entailed another disturbing idea. The existence of a murderer.

“To disguise the murder as a suicide,” Simon commented, solidifying my claim. "The killer made Angel write that letter."

He empathetically gazed at Mrs. Reyes. "Ma'am, do you see it now? Do you believe us now?"

Mrs. Reyes choked on her own tears. She brought the letter to her chest.

"If there's anything I could do, I'll do it," she told us.

"We need to know a few things," I began. "Do you know if Angel had a boyfriend?"

She shook her head. "You see, that was one of the things I liked about her. I didn't ask her not to date. I wanted her to enjoy her youth. But she promised me she wouldn't date until she finishes college."

'So why did she date S.T.? I thought S.T. approached her on purpose. Is it the other way around? Did she approach S.T. for the sake of her investigation? Angel… you're one reckless girl.' I thought.

"This white ink right here bothers me," I commented. "If she was forced to write this, I don’t think she'd have the luxury to apply correction ink. And don’t you think they're too thick?"

And that was when it hit me. Simon and I looked at each other. We were probably thinking about the same thing.

Carefully, I bent the paper and scratched the thick white ink. Luckily, the ink crumbled into pieces like how dried dough crumbled when you scratched them.

'There's probably a secret messa--'

"There is!" I exclaimed when I saw a hidden message covered by white ink.

I delicately dismantled the thick ink so I wouldn't destroy the message. Finally, I managed to reveal the hidden message. It said,

'Mom, find my diary. 0807'

"The diary?" Simon commented. "0807? That's the passcode of the diary."

As much as it shook us, it affected Mrs. Reyes badly.

"She was trying to tell me… she was asking for help… but I-- I failed to find out. I am useless… I didn't do anything…"

"Mrs. Reyes, you need to pull yourself together." I tried to calm her down. "We might be able to find the killer."

I looked at the diary, which now became worn and loosed in the middle because I had always brought it wherever I went and opened it a thousand times each day.

And today, it decided to give in.

The diary got disjointed from its leather cover. That was when I realized the leather was an accessory. It can be removed from the actual notebook.

I was surprised when I discovered a little pocket at the back of the leather cover, which was initially covered by the original cover of the notebook.

I unbuttoned the little pocket and took what was inside. It contained a folded photo card and a key. I unfolded the photo, and I became deaf as I heard explosions inside my head.

'This is it! The answer!'

It was that same photocard from the club's quarters. But it was torn. There were originally three people, with Angel in the middle. The other person was purposely torn.

I turned the photo over. My heart slammed inside my rib cage, it was constantly jabbing, trying to get out because it couldn't take the tension.

"I found him, Simon…"

And before we could discuss it, my phone blasted off ringing.

"Nick," I answered the phone immediately.

"Jas, we know who S.T. is."

I could feel my guts going up to my esophagus. He just had to recite the name that was on my mind at the moment.

Because then, it would all make sense.

"What did you find?" I asked with so much anticipation and dread.

"After digging things about the Garossa Factory, we stumbled upon a very interesting story. And you won't believe to whom it led us."

'Just please, please say his name.' I chanted inside my head.

"Who is it, Nick?"