The moment Ji-hyun reached her apartment, she felt it—a shift in the air, an unsettling presence. Something was waiting for her. Her steps slowed as she climbed the stairs, her breath hitching when her eyes landed on a small box sitting neatly in front of her door.
Her stomach twisted. She hadn't ordered anything. And no one ever sent her gifts. Cautiously, she glanced around the dimly lit hallway, scanning the shadows, the corners, the unseen eyes that might be watching her.
But there was nothing.
No footsteps.
No sound.
Just silence.
Swallowing her unease, she bent down and carefully picked up the box. It was light, but the weight of the unknown pressed heavy on her chest. With a final look down the hallway, she stepped inside her apartment and locked the door securely behind her. She placed the box on the table, her hands steady despite the pounding in her chest.
Then, a sudden ping—her phone vibrated against the wooden surface.
She grabbed it, unlocking the screen.
A single message.
"Clue 2."
Her breath caught. Again.
It was them.
The same person who had sent her the cryptic message before. Her grip tightened around the phone. Who the hell were they? Her pulse thrummed as she turned her attention back to the box. Slowly, carefully, she lifted the lid. Inside, there were only two things.
A small leather-bound journal. And a folded envelope.
Ji-hyun's fingers trembled slightly as she picked up the envelope first, unfolding it with cautious anticipation. There wasn't much written inside. Just a few words.
"Use these as a clue."
That was it. A sharp exhale escaped her lips, frustration prickling at her skin. But then, her gaze landed on the journal. Something about it felt familiar. She reached for it, her heart hammering as she opened the cover.
A small photograph slipped out and fluttered onto the table. Ji-hyun's breath hitched as she picked it up. It was a group photo.
Military personnel.
Her hands clenched around the edges as she took in the image. And there, in the center—
Soo-ah.
Smiling.
A red marker circled her face, making her stand out among the others. Ji-hyun's world tilted. This was her sister's journal. Her fingers ran over the worn leather, the faint scratches and scuffs that told of years of use. She knew this handwriting.
Soo-ah's handwriting.
She flipped the pages with shaky hands. Each word breathed life into her sister's voice. Each sentence was a glimpse into her world.Her struggles. Her triumphs.
Her pain.
Ji-hyun could almost hear Soo-ah's laughter in the playful notes she wrote about her teammates. Feel her exhaustion in the lines detailing brutal training sessions. Sense her quiet loneliness when she mentioned the family she left behind. Ji-hyun read, and read, and read. The hours slipped away unnoticed. Her fingers turned another page—
And then stopped. The rest of the journal was missing.
Torn.
Jagged edges where the remaining pages should have been. Like someone didn't want her to know what Soo-ah wrote. Ji-hyun's breath came in uneven gasps as she stared at the ripped pages. Her mind screamed why? Why was this missing? Who took these pages?
YOU ARE READING
The Algorithm Of Deceit
Short StoryJi-hyun had spent years burying the past, drowning herself in lines of codes and endless data streams. As a data engineer, she believed in logic, in patterns, in things that made sense. But nothing about her twin sister's death did. Three years had...
