The night before my best friend disappeared, she handed me a $5 bill and said, “I owe you money. Take this.” It felt random—just one of her quirks. I smiled, dropped it into my savings jar, and didn’t think twice.
It was the last time I ever saw her.
Three weeks later, while cleaning my room, I counted the jar. When I unfolded that same $5 bill, I noticed a faint blue scribble in the corner. I held it closer to the light—and my heart stopped.
Written in tiny, careful letters were the words:
“No matter what happens, you will stay in my heart.”
Chills ran through me. She vanished the very next day.
I took the bill to the police, hoping it meant something, that it was a clue. It wasn’t. The search ended. The answers never came.
Ten years later, I still keep that $5 bill tucked away.
Every time I see it, I wonder if she knew she wouldn’t return—
and if that was her way of saying goodbye.
