No One Shows Up to Old Woman’s Birthday Except a Courier with a Cake That Reads, ‘We Know What You Did’
Martha Sinclair sat alone at her dining table, staring at the flickering candle on the cake before her. The empty chairs around her were a painful reminder that no one had come to celebrate her 80th birthday. Not her distant relatives, not the neighbors she had lived next to for years, not even an old friend.
She wasn’t surprised. She had spent a lifetime keeping people at arm’s length. It was easier that way—safer.
But the cake in front of her was a mystery. She hadn’t ordered it, and when the courier arrived earlier that evening, he simply handed it to her with a knowing smile and left without a word. Now, as she looked down at the smooth white frosting, her breath hitched.
“We Know What You Did.”
Her heart pounded. For the first time in decades, she felt the grip of fear squeezing her chest. Who could have sent this? Who could possibly know?
She ran a shaky hand over her forehead. It had been nearly 60 years, and she had convinced herself that no one would ever find out.
The past was supposed to stay buried.
She glanced toward the window, suddenly aware of the darkness pressing in from outside. The old house creaked, the wind whispering secrets through the trees. Martha pushed the cake away, unable to bear looking at the words any longer.
The memories rushed back.
She had been a young woman then, full of fire and ambition. And she had done something terrible.
No one had ever discovered what happened to Peter Caldwell, the boy from her hometown who had disappeared one summer night. There were whispers, of course—speculations. But Martha knew the truth. She had been the last person to see him.
And she had made sure no one would ever find him.
Her hands trembled as she reached for the cake knife. Was this a cruel joke? Was someone trying to torment an old woman who had already spent a lifetime looking over her shoulder?
She sliced into the cake with deliberate force, half-expecting a message hidden within. But there was nothing but layers of chocolate and cream.
Then, the phone rang.
Martha jumped, her pulse racing as she reached for the receiver. “Hello?” she croaked.
A deep silence filled the line.
Then, a whisper. “Did you think we’d forget?”
Martha’s breath hitched. She slammed the phone down and backed away, heart pounding in her ears.
She wasn’t alone.
Somewhere, in the darkness outside, someone was watching.
And they knew.
