Secrets in the Wind

The tension in the air remained even long after Farida had left. Amara sat on the couch, her hands intertwined as if to console herself. Daniel walked in on their conversation, and although he had been courteous to Farida, Amara could not miss the lingering doubt etched on his face.

And now that Farida had gone in and closed the door Daniel stood at the entrance, his arms crossed and an expression not to be read across his face.

"She seems nice," he said, keeping his tone light but locking on with an intense gaze.

Amara forced a smile, hoping it was natural. "She is. We were catching up after so many years."

Daniel nodded slowly but the lingering gaze of his eyes made Amara's heart race. "You have been quite and much with her lately," he said.

Amara swallowed hard but tried to act casual. "We're just reconnecting, that's all."

There was a silence, thick and stubborn, before Daniel finally shrugged. "Alright. Just don't forget we have dinner with the Onyebuchis tomorrow. They've been asking about us."

"Of course," Amara replied quickly, glad for the change of subject.

But as Daniel stepped into the bedroom, the weight in Amara's chest wouldn't budge. She knew it had planted a seed of doubt and she wasn't sure how long she could keep up the act.

---

The next day Amara was woken up by a message that gave her the chills.

"Secrets are like the wind, Amara. You can't see them but you can feel them around. Don't let yours blow out of control."

Considering all the facts, it was clear that there were no information about the sender, only a private number. The cryptic message did not matter the fact that it was a warning as much as who asked it, sending yet more questions without answers. Who could have sent it?

The very idea that someone could have known her increasing intimacy with Farida sent her into a panic. She hadn't crossed any explicit lines, at least not publicly. But deep down, she knew her feelings for Farida were anything but innocent.

Amara deleted the message immediately, as if deletion would also delete the threat. But as daylight stretched into evening, she found herself surveilling her surroundings constantly, convinced that someone was watching her.

That evening, following the Onyebuchis' dinner, everything was a blur. Amara laughed at their jokes and kept polite conversation as a good wife should, but her mind was elsewhere. She noticed Daniel looking at her often, his brow slightly furrowed; she pretended not to see him, though.

When they finally reached home, Amara excused herself to the bedroom, citing a headache. She needed an alone time, a minute to pause and take a deep breath so that she could get back on track.

Her phone buzzed again as she edged onto the bed. This time it wasn't a text. It was a picture, a blurry shot of her and Farida at the café, their hands positioned close together on the table.

Her heart stopped. The accompanying message read:

"I wonder what your husband would think of this."

Amara breathed in shallow gasps. Whoever it was, they were definitely paying close attention to her. Panic ran through her blood as she thought about what that meant.

---

The following day, Amara called Farida and agreed to meet her in an isolated park. Farida appeared worried, her brow knitted as she moved towards Amara.

"What is going on?" Farida asked, sitting next to her on the bench.

Amara handed her phone over, showing the message and the photo. "This…this was sent to me last night. Somebody's watching us."

Farida's expression became even more serious as she kept gazing at the screen. "This is no joke, Amara. Do you know at least something about who it could be?"

Amara shook her head. "No. The only person i suspect is the lady at the cafe, Chioma... But whoever it is knows enough to ruin everything."

Farida sighed and clenched her jaw. "This can't be Chioma! We need to find out who did this, but first you have to relax. Panic isn't going to help us."

Amara looked at her helplessly. "What if the person goes to Daniel? What if he sees this?"

Farida placed a reassuring hand on hers. "We won't let that happen. But we have to be careful."

Amara nodded, but the knot in her stomach didn't budge.

---

The following days were a blend of paranoia and fear. Amara reacted to every sound, every unanticipated call, or message like a jumping jack. She skipped meeting Farida, hoping that your distance from her would dissuade whoever was behind the threats.

Despite the warning the messages kept coming. The frequency of the messages was increasing and each new message seemed to be more menacing than the previous one.

"Secrets do not stay buried for long, Amara. It's just a matter of time."

"Tick-tock. Time is running out."

Each message eroded her confidence, and she ended up a wrecked person.

---

Amara was seated alone one evening in their living room, the evening air had been thick with the promise of rain when Amara stood on her balcony looking at some distant skyline. The city lights twinkled like weak promises, but none could shed any light on the storm brewing inside her. 

Amara turned back into the apartment, hoping to avoid the thoughts by cleaning. While she gathered the scattered cushions and arranged the coffee table, her phone buzzed on the counter. She hesitated before picking it up; a name on the screen had rendered her immobile.

Her thumb hovered over the screen. A shiver ran down her spine, but she replied carefully.

"Hello?"

The voice on the other end was deep and measured, and his tone seemed to possess an unsettling tranquility, as if each word were, perhaps, slightly over-embellished. "Amara, I think it's time we spoke."

Her heart thudded. "Who is this?"

"Who I am doesn't matter. The important thing is what I know."

Amara felt the room spinning around her. "I don't get it. What are you saying?"

"I know about Farida," the voice said lightly. The gravity of that statement landed like a punch to her stomach.

Amara swallowed hard and voiced in a trembling tone. "I am not sure I understand what you are talking about."

"Oh, but you do. You see, secrets have a way of slipping through cracks, carried on the wind for those willing to listen. And I've been listening, Amara."

Her knees gave way, and she sank onto the couch, clutching the phone very tightly. "What do you want?"

A laugh escaped the other end, a deep ominous low. "What do I want? It's simple. You. To. Stop. Seeing. Farida. Or I'll make sure your husband gets all the details of your recent activities."

Amara's heart raced. "You can't do this."

"I can and I will. Consider this a friendly warning. You cut her out of your life, or this whole perfect little setup of yours comes crashing down. And we wouldn't want that, would we?"

The line went dead.

Amara stared at her phone while shaking hands. A flurry of questions raced through her mind: Who was this person? What did they know? And most importantly, what were they planning to do?

She had paced the room with her thoughts in a wild spiral. She could never tell Daniel. Their marriage was shaky as it was, and this would shatter whatever it's left of it. But she couldn't sever ties with Farida either.

Amara took her jacket and keys, stepping out of the claustrophobic apartment. She drove around the city purposelessly, the steady patter of rain against her windshield providing scant relief.

Her car stopped finally outside Farida's apartment. She hadn't planned on coming here, but somehow, her heart always ended up leading her to the one person w]ho made her feel understood.

Farida opened the door, shocked to see her. "Amara? Is something wrong?"

Amara stepped in, her eyes wide with fear. "We need to talk, Farida."

Farida took her to the couch, the look of concern on her face. "I'm just wonderring..."

Amara hesitated, her tongue fumbling in her throat. At last, she exclaimed, "Someone knows about us."

Farida's expression darkened. "What do you mean? Who knows?"

"I do not know,' Amara replied, her voice trembling 'I got a call, it was a man. He said that he knows about us and warned me to seek your company or he will inform Daniel'.

Farida's jaw tightened. "And you believe him?"

"I don't know what to believe anymore!" cried Amara, her voice breaking.

Farida reached for her hands and squeezed them tightly, "Listen to me, we can figure this out. But whoever this is, they are trying to scare you, don't let them win."

Amara pulled her hands away and stood up abruptly. "You don't understand. If Daniel finds out…"

Farida stood up as well, the tone of her voice was clear. "Amara, you cannot continue living in fear. You deserve to find happiness."

Amara shook her head and cried. "I don't even know what happiness is anymore."

The words hung in the air between them like a challenge, unknowing how to proceed.

---

The next few days were a frenzy of paranoia and anxiety for Amara. She was very jumpy about shadows, avoided Daniel as much as she could, and ignored Farida's calls because she was too scared to face her.

Some afternoon, she was on her desk at the office concentrating on her work when an envelope was brought to her by the receptionist. It had no name on it just her address written on it in strange handwriting.

With trembling hands, Amara finally opened the envelope. There was only one photograph inside: a very blurry picture of her and Farida at the café, their hands reaching out across the table. Her stomach dropped as she read the note that accompanied it.

"I wasn't kidding. This is just the beginning."

Amara trembled while holding the photograph. It was an unsettling, vulnerable feeling, as though the walls were closing in around her.

That night she confronted Daniel, unable to bear the burden of her lies any longer. She had to tell him something, anything that would steer suspicion away from the truth.

"Daniel," she started, hesitantly, as they sat down to dinner, "Have you noticed anything…strange lately?"

He looked up from his plate and raised an eyebrow. "Strange? In what way?"

"I don't know," she said, her voice faltering. "Just, maybe someone following us or watching the house?"

Daniel frowned and his face became serious. "No. Why? Did something happen?"

Amara shook her head quickly. "No, it's probably nothing. Forget I said anything."

But Daniel didn't look convinced. "Amara, you have to tell me if something is wrong."

"I said it's nothing," she snapped, her voice sharper than she had meant it to be.

He leaned back in his chair, giving her an appraising look. "You've been acting differently of late. Is there something that you need to tell me?"

Her heart was racing, but she forced a smile. "I only stress with work, that's all."

But Daniel's eyes stayed on her, and suspicion flickered in his glance.

That night, Amara was almost awake all through. The walls seemed to communicate to her quietly and each of the houses creak made her feel like someone was just about to come in. She had never felt so isolated, she never felt more like a prisoner.