Aliana sat quietly in the backseat, her fingers clutching the photograph so tightly it was beginning to crease. Her mind was spinning, replaying every word Arman had said—every cold, detached syllable that still echoed in her head.
The girl in the picture stared back at her, smiling faintly, unaware of the chaos her face had stirred.
"Sir," Aliana spoke suddenly, leaning forward toward the driver. "Do you know where I can find a private investigator?"
The driver glanced at her through the rear-view mirror, confused. "A private investigator, Miss? If you don't mind me asking, why do you need one?"
"I need to find someone," Aliana said, her voice low but urgent. "I don't know her name or where she's from. I just… need to know who she is."
The driver was silent for a moment, the city lights flashing across his weathered face. "I know someone," he said at last. "A man I used to work with. Quiet fellow, but good at what he does."
Relief flickered across Aliana's tired expression. "Then call him. Tell him I'll pay whatever he wants, but I need this done quickly."
"Yes, Miss," he replied, glancing at her again.
She extended the photo toward him. "Here. This is the woman. Find out who she is."
He took it carefully, eyes briefly settling on the image. His grip tightened slightly on the steering wheel. For a split second, his gaze sharpened—something like recognition passing across his face—but then he looked away, tucking the photo into the glove compartment.
When the car rolled into the Jordan mansion, the faint hum of chatter and music spilled out into the night air. The grand house glowed with soft lights, laughter drifting through the open doors.
Aliana frowned. "What's going on?"
Before she could step out properly, her mother appeared, graceful as always, her smile warm and expectant. "There you are!" Samara took her hand, quickly ushering her through the side entrance. "Come on, don't ruin the surprise."
"Surprise?" Aliana murmured, her steps hesitant.
"Go upstairs and get dressed," her mother said in a rush, clearly excited. "All your friends are here. We couldn't celebrate yesterday, so I decided to throw your birthday party tonight."
Aliana blinked. The sound of music and chatter filled the hall, but she couldn't bring herself to smile. "Oh… that's wonderful, Mama," she said weakly.
Samara cupped her cheek affectionately. "Now hurry, everyone's waiting for the birthday girl."
Aliana nodded faintly and walked upstairs. Once inside her room, she closed the door quietly and leaned against it, breathing out shakily. The noise from downstairs faded, replaced by the hum of her thoughts. Something didn't feel right.
Her stomach churned with unease.
Then she saw it.
The diary.
It was lying open on her desk, exactly where she hadn't left it. The pink cover was slightly tilted, the pen beside it uncapped, ink still wet on its tip.
A cold shiver ran down her spine.
Aliana stepped closer, her heartbeat thudding in her ears. She could smell the ink, sharp and fresh. Whoever had written in it had done so only moments ago.
She turned quickly toward the window. It was wide open, the curtains fluttering in the wind.
"Who's there?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "Come out! I know you're here!"
Silence. Only the rustling of fabric and the faint echo of laughter from downstairs.
She checked behind the curtains, the wardrobe, even the bathroom—but no one was there. Her pulse was racing when she returned to the desk. Slowly, she looked down at the open page.
The words were written in her own handwriting.
Dear Diary,11th May 2024
Today Arman pushed me away, like usual. But today felt different. I think it's because of a girl. He's looking for someone… maybe someone he loves? That's the only reason Arman would make an effort for a woman.
I was jealous. I thought looking into her myself was the best thing to do. I wanted to see who she was, to know if I was right. But something strange happened tonight. Mama threw a birthday party for me… and the girl was there.
She was one of the waitresses at my party. Surely he wouldn't fall for a woman like that, right? I'm nervous.
Her eyes darted around the room again, heart hammering.
"Who's doing this…" she whispered, tears welling in her eyes.
Aliana's hands trembled as she stared at the page. The words blurred through her tears, yet she read them again, over and over, as if doing so would change them.
The girl was there.
Her pulse roared in her ears. "No… no, this isn't real," she whispered to herself. Her voice sounded small, frightened, almost foreign. "This isn't happening."
But the more she repeated it, the less she believed it. The diary hadn't been wrong yet. Everything it had written — every word — had unfolded exactly as described. The dinner, the cut on her hand, the necklace, even Arman not coming. And now… now it was saying the girl was here.
Her skin prickled.
She snapped the diary shut and stepped back, her heart pounding. For a second, she thought about locking herself in and pretending she never saw it. But curiosity clawed at her stronger than fear. She needed to know.
What if the girl was really here?
Before she could stop herself, Aliana stood up, nearly tripping on the edge of the rug. She didn't bother changing. Still in her office clothes, eyes red and hair slightly messy, she threw open the door and hurried down the staircase.
The music and chatter from the hall grew louder, clashing with the sound of her racing heartbeat. Laughter rang through the air — sharp, hollow, grating.
The grand hall glittered with chandeliers and expensive smiles. Her so-called friends stood near the bar, dressed to perfection, their laughter too loud, too rehearsed.
"Aliana!" one of them called, fake sweetness dripping from her voice. "You finally came down! We thought you'd keep us waiting forever—"
"Not now," Aliana muttered, brushing past them. She didn't even glance at their painted faces.
The girls exchanged looks, smirking. "She's always like that," one whispered. "Thinks she's better than everyone."
Aliana heard the whispers, but they barely reached her. Her eyes were sweeping across the hall, searching. Guests mingled with glasses in hand, waiters drifted between tables carrying trays of champagne. Her throat felt tight as her gaze darted from face to face.
Then, her body froze.
The door at the far end opened, and Arman stepped inside.
Her breath caught. For a brief, wild moment, relief flooded her — he came. He was here. Maybe he'd changed his mind. Maybe he regretted—
But then his eyes passed over her. No warmth. No acknowledgment. Just a glance that cut straight through her like glass before shifting away, as if she were a stranger.
Aliana's smile faltered.
She followed his line of sight, her pulse hammering painfully against her ribs. And that's when she saw her.
The girl from the photo.
She stood among the waitstaff, her hair tied neatly back, holding a silver tray with flutes of champagne that glittered under the chandeliers. She was young, graceful, her face calm in a way that made Aliana's stomach twist.
The room seemed to tilt for a moment.
"It's true," Aliana whispered, her voice barely leaving her throat. Her fingers curled at her sides, nails biting into her palms.
The girl turned slightly, smiling politely at a guest and for a second, Aliana felt as though the air had been sucked out of her lungs.
There she was.The girl the diary had written about.The girl Arman was looking for.
And she was standing right in front of her.
For a moment, Aliana couldn't move. Her chest tightened, her throat burned. It felt like her lungs were being wrung dry, every breath forced out of her body.
The realization hit like a sharp slap. Arman was hers. He had always been hers, at least in name, in position, in the silent understanding that no one else could ever stand beside him like she did. But right now, she saw it in his eyes, the faint warmth she'd been begging for but never received. It was there, but not for her.
A wild panic began to rise inside her. For the first time in her life, Aliana felt what it meant to lose something, not by choice, not by control, but because it was being taken away from her.
Her vision blurred. The music faded into an echo. People's faces turned into shadows. The ground felt like it was swaying beneath her heels. She reached out, trying to steady herself, but her fingers met nothing but air.
Aliana collapsed right in the middle of the glittering hall.