Sky woke to silence.
The kind that didn't feel right.Not peaceful.Just… off.
Day hadn't come back.The couch was cold. The tea was stale.And Sky had been pretending he wasn't checking his phone every hour like an idiot.
He stood by the window now, watching the street. Still no black cars. Still no sign.
Then he noticed it.
The envelope.
Not under the door.Inside the apartment.On the kitchen counter.
Sky's breath caught.
He hadn't seen it last night. He hadn't left it there.The door had been locked.
He picked it up carefully. Heavy paper. No name.
Inside: a single photo.
Of himself—taken from across the street. Through the café window. Smiling at Day.
On the back, just four words, typed in ink:
"He can't save you."
Sky's hands shook.
He looked around the apartment. It felt smaller now. Tighter. Like the walls were leaning in.
He ran to the closet—grabbed the emergency phone Day had given him.
The one he said to burn if he didn't come back in 48 hours.
He hadn't.But Sky wasn't running.
He turned it on.
The screen lit up.
1 New Message.No name. Just a number. Time-stamped 2:03 a.m.
"They're already inside.Don't trust the neighbors.Find the mirror. Break it.Follow the wire."
Sky's heart was racing now.
He turned to the bathroom.
The mirror above the sink.
His hands trembled as he grabbed the edge and yanked—It didn't come off easily.
But when it did, a tiny wire snapped loose behind it—cutting off a quiet hum. Hidden surveillance.
They'd been watching him.Inside. This whole time.
He dropped the mirror. It shattered.
His breath came shallow and fast.
Then he remembered Day's last words:
"If I don't come back in 48 hours, burn the phone. Run. Change your name."
But Sky wasn't good at following rules.Especially not when the person he loved might be walking into fire alone.
He grabbed a backpack, threw the phone in, and paused.
Then, against his better judgment, he reached for the gun Day had stashed beneath the floorboard.
Just in case.