---
The days blurred together like fogged glass.
Elena moved through them quietly—hiding behind books, headphones, and silence.
But none of it was working anymore.
The whispers at school weren't whispers.
They were stares.
They were sharp glances at her stomach.
They were Liam's eyes, following her down every hallway like a leash she couldn't shake.
---
That morning, she found another message.
Tucked between the pages of her worn poetry book was a torn piece of paper:
> "He doesn't love you. He just marked you."
She dropped it like it burned her fingers.
No name. No handwriting she recognized.
But it felt… familiar. Wrong.
She didn't know if it was from Liam.
Or someone else.
She didn't know which scared her more.
---
Later that afternoon, she took the long way home—cutting through the quiet back streets and alley corners she used to avoid.
A cat darted past her.
A crow screeched from a rooftop.
And then… a voice.
"Elena."
She froze.
Liam stood at the end of the alley, hands in his coat pockets.
"I was starting to think you were avoiding me," he said with a lazy smile. "You don't answer texts. Don't pick up calls."
She didn't speak. Just kept walking.
He stepped in front of her.
"You're pregnant," he said quietly.
The world tilted.
She said nothing.
His smile faded. "You think I wouldn't figure it out?"
Her hands clenched at her sides.
"It's his, right?" he muttered. "Of course it is."
She tried to push past him.
He grabbed her wrist.
"I could protect you," he said. "I would've taken care of you. But you threw yourself at a ghost instead."
"Let me go," she whispered.
He didn't.
"You think he'll come back for you?" Liam said, his voice breaking. "You think he cares?"
She looked him dead in the eyes. "Yes."
Something in him shattered.
He let her go.
She ran.
---
Back home, she slammed the door and locked it behind her.
Her breathing was ragged. Her throat burned.
She collapsed to the floor.
For the first time since the party, she let the tears come—silent, hot, and endless.
She cried for the girl she used to be.
For the boy she used to trust.
For the man who left a mark on her body and never came back.
---
That night, she didn't sleep.
The storm outside clawed at her windows.
Lightning cracked across the sky like the world was splitting open.
And in the darkness, she felt it again.
That heavy, invisible gaze.
She rose from bed, moved to the window.
Nothing but shadows.
But on her nightstand—
a fresh white rose.
And beside it…
A note.
> "Don't be afraid of the storm. I'm coming back."
Her fingers shook as she held it.
Luca.
He was close.
And this time…
He wasn't going to stay away.
---