Insight of a Kenyan Girl

The silence was too loud.

Tilly sat with her back against the door, the envelope still beside her, the silver chain now twisted between her fingers like a talisman against whatever was creeping into her life. The ring caught the light every so often, flashing like a warning beacon. Or a signal.

She wanted to move. To stand. To scream. But the fear had settled in her bones now, anchoring her to the spot like chains around her ankles.

Then, her phone buzzed in her hand.

She flinched so hard she nearly dropped it.

A number flashed on the screen—not unknown this time.

Lena.

Relief rushed through her, hot and sudden. Lena, her friend from university. They’d drifted over the years, but every now and then, they still checked in. Lena always had an eerie sense of timing—popping up right when Tilly needed grounding the most.

She answered quickly. “Hello?”

“Tilly?” Lena’s voice was a soft, welcome calm. “I hope it’s not too late.”

“No—no, it’s fine,” Tilly said, trying to keep her voice steady.

There was a pause. “You sound… off. Is everything okay?”

Tilly hesitated, then let out a bitter laugh. “No. Not even close.”

“I had this weird feeling,” Lena said. “I was just lying in bed and suddenly I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Like something was wrong.”

Tilly closed her eyes.

“You ever feel like you’re being watched?” she whispered.

Lena didn’t answer immediately. “Why?”

“Because I am. Or I think I am. Someone’s leaving me things. Notes. They knocked on my door and disappeared. Tonight I got a ring. And a message.”

“Jesus, Tilly…”

She waited, hoping Lena would say come over, or I’m calling someone, or you’re safe—something. Anything.

But what Lena said next chilled her to the bone.

“Was it the red envelope?”

Tilly sat up straighter. Her blood ran cold. “What did you just say?”

“The envelope,” Lena said slowly, voice quieter now. “Red. Almost neon. You found one, didn’t you?”

Tilly’s hand went cold around her phone. Her voice cracked. “How do you know that?”

Another silence.

“Lena?”

Click.

Call ended.

Tilly stared at her phone. Her body wouldn’t move. Her skin prickled.

She tried calling back.

Straight to voicemail.

She texted. Waited. Nothing. No read receipt. No typing dots. No reply.

It was like Lena had vanished the moment she’d asked the wrong question.

And now, another realization crept in—slow and cruel.

If Lena had known about the red envelope… that meant this wasn’t random. This wasn’t just Tilly.

Someone had planned this. Maybe more than one person. Maybe it wasn’t just her being watched.

Maybe she wasn’t the only one being tested.

She looked down at the ring again.

Her reflection stared back at her in its curved silver surface.

And for the first time in days, a new kind of fear surfaced—one that wasn’t just about being watched.

It was the fear of being chosen.