"They are watching you now."
Emily stared at the message for a long moment.
No movement.
No breathy panic.
Just stillness.
The phone screen glowed against her fingers, casting a faint light over her face as the night deepened around her. Somewhere in the orphanage yard, children's laughter faded into the distance, swallowed by the quiet that always came too quickly after sunset.
Emily locked the phone.
Slowly.
Like the message hadn't reached her properly yet.
Like ignoring it could delay whatever it meant.
But even as the screen went dark, the words stayed.
They are watching you now.
She exhaled and leaned back against the wooden bench beneath the oak tree.
The same place she always came when her thoughts became too loud.
But tonight, even the tree didn't help.
Something had shifted.
Not in a loud, violent way.
But in a way that made everything feel slightly out of place... like reality had been tilted without warning.
Emily closed her eyes briefly.
Veins of Lanta.
Her father.
The mayor's voice.
Alan's silence.
And that message.
Her fingers tightened lightly in her lap.
She didn't like how everything suddenly felt connected.
Even things that shouldn't be.
⸻
By the time she returned to her small room in the orphanage, the place was already quiet.
Most of the children were asleep.
The halls were dim, lit only by soft bulbs that buzzed faintly overhead.
Emily closed the door behind her and stood there for a moment, not moving further inside.
It felt different now.
Her room hadn't changed.
But she had.
She walked slowly to the bed and sat down.
The mattress dipped under her weight, and she stared at the floor as if it might give her something solid to hold onto.
But there was nothing.
Just thoughts.
Too many of them.
She reached up and rubbed her forehead lightly.
"Stop..." she muttered under her breath, though she wasn't sure what exactly she was asking to stop.
Her phone buzzed again.
Emily's eyes snapped to it immediately.
She hesitated.
Then picked it up.
Unknown number.
Again.
Her thumb hovered.
For a second, she considered not opening it.
But she did.
One line.
Shorter this time.
"Don't trust what you're being told."
Emily's grip tightened.
Her jaw clenched slightly.
Now it wasn't just observation.
It felt intentional.
Like someone was pulling her attention on purpose.
Like she was being guided.
She locked the phone again.
This time faster.
And placed it face down on the bed.
Silence returned.
But it didn't stay silent for long.
A faint sound came from her window.
A soft tap.
Emily froze.
Her eyes slowly shifted toward it.
Another tap.
This time clearer.
Her heartbeat didn't spike immediately.
Instead, it slowed.
Controlled.
Careful.
She stood up quietly and walked toward the window.
For a second, she hesitated before pulling the curtain aside.
Outside, the night was still.
Dark trees.
Empty yard.
Nothing unusual.
She opened the window slightly.
Cold air brushed her face.
And then—
A voice.
Low.
Familiar.
"Emily."
She turned sharply.
Alan stood just below the window, partially hidden by the shadows of the building.
Her expression tightened instantly.
"What are you doing here?" she whispered, glancing behind her instinctively.
Alan didn't move closer.
He just looked up at her.
There was something off about him tonight.
Less relaxed.
Less sure.
Like something had been weighing on him for hours.
"I needed to see you," he said quietly.
Emily didn't respond immediately.
Instead, she studied him.
Really studied him.
For the first time in a while, she wasn't just seeing Alan as someone she knew.
She was seeing him as someone she didn't fully understand.
"You could've waited," she said finally.
"I tried," he replied.
That made her pause.
Alan looked away briefly before continuing.
"But I can't keep doing that."
A silence settled between them.
Emily's grip on the window tightened slightly.
"Doing what?"
Alan looked back at her.
And this time, his voice lowered.
"Pretending you're not already inside something bigger than you understand."
Emily's expression hardened.
"I'm not inside anything."
Alan shook his head slightly.
"You are."
That was it.
No drama.
No exaggeration.
Just certainty.
And that certainty made her chest tighten.
Emily stepped back from the window slightly.
"You and the mayor keep saying things like that," she said quietly. "But no one actually explains anything properly."
Alan didn't respond immediately.
For a moment, he looked like he was deciding something.
Then he spoke.
"Because some explanations don't protect you."
Emily scoffed lightly.
"So silence does?"
Alan didn't deny it.
That silence hurt more than it should have.
Emily stared at him.
"You've known things for years, haven't you?" she asked.
Alan's jaw tightened.
Another silence.
Longer this time.
"...Yes," he admitted.
Just one word.
But it was enough.
Emily felt something shift inside her chest.
Not anger.
Not fear.
Something colder.
Understanding.
Slow, uncomfortable understanding.
"You've been around me all this time," she said softly. "And you never said anything."
Alan looked like he wanted to respond immediately.
But didn't.
That hesitation again.
Always hesitation.
Emily nodded slowly, almost to herself.
"I see."
Alan stepped forward slightly.
"Emily—"
"Don't," she interrupted quietly.
Her voice wasn't loud.
But it carried weight.
He stopped.
They stood like that for a moment.
Her inside the room.
Him outside in the dark.
Separated by a window that suddenly felt much bigger than glass and wood.
"I'm not angry," Emily said after a while.
That surprised him.
But she continued.
"I just don't understand what's real anymore."
Alan's expression softened slightly.
"That's why I said be careful."
Emily let out a short breath.
"Be careful of what, Alan? You? The mayor? Everyone?"
Alan didn't answer directly.
Instead, he said something quieter.
"All of it."
That made the air between them heavier.
Emily looked down for a moment.
When she looked back up, her voice was calmer.
"Why come here tonight?"
Alan hesitated again.
Then reached into his pocket and pulled out something small.
A folded paper.
He didn't hand it up immediately.
Just held it.
"There's something I think you should see," he said.
Emily frowned slightly.
"What is it?"
Alan's eyes met hers.
And for the first time that night, there was something raw in them.
"Something your father left behind."
The words landed slowly.
Not explosive.
But deep.
Emily didn't move.
Didn't speak.
Just stared at him.
And for the first time since everything began...
She didn't know if she wanted to reach for the truth.
Or run from it.
Alan held the paper out toward her.
Waiting.
But Emily didn't take it.
Not yet.
Not because she didn't want to.
But because something inside her was finally starting to understand—
Once she touched that truth...
There would be no pretending anymore.
And nothing would go back to normal again.