The Last Message
Emma’s phone buzzed at 2:17 a.m. — a text from her best friend, Lily:
“Come outside. I need to talk.”
Emma frowned. Lily had died in a car accident three days ago.
Shaking, she peeked through her bedroom window. There, under the flickering streetlight, stood Lily — pale, smiling, and waving.
Another message appeared:
“Thanks for coming. I didn’t want to say goodbye alone.”
The next morning, Emma’s mother found her phone on the floor. The last message sent from it read:
“I’m coming.”
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