---
I've always felt watched.
Not the scary kind. Not the kind that makes your skin crawl.
Something gentler.
Like a shadow following me in the sun. Like a hand hovering over my shoulder, never quite touching. Like the feeling you get just before a coin toss lands in your favor.
I never told anyone, but ever since I was a kid, I used to talk to someone I couldn't see. Not imaginary—at least, I don't think so. They were always... there. I'd ask questions out loud. Sometimes, answers came in ways I didn't expect. A sudden breeze. A falling book. A flickering light.
I used to call them my "whisper between."
Because that's where they lived—in the quiet space between heartbeats, between moments.
When Mikey got bitten by a dog and everyone panicked, I knew to run left—where an old man just happened to be walking his pit bull on a leash. He helped. He said, "You've got good instincts, kid." But I didn't.
I just heard the whisper.
When Jamie's little brother went missing in the woods, I found him first. I followed the wind. I followed the feeling.
Was it luck? Maybe. But it never felt random.
I always thought of it—whatever it was—as my guardian.
I never saw them. Never heard a voice.
But I felt them.
Especially now.
---
Lately, the world's been changing again. Not loudly. Not in fire or screams. Just… subtly.
Jamie's number is still in my phone, but when I call, it goes to voicemail in a voice I don't recognize.
Jayden's house has new owners. When I asked the man who answered the door if Jayden still lived there, he said, "Who?"
Mikey doesn't meet my eyes anymore.
I don't know if it's them… or me.
Something's shifting.
And I don't know what my supposed guardian is doing about the man in the suit.
---
I haven't seen the man yet. Not clearly.
But I feel his weight. His intention.
Like I'm not just being watched anymore. Like I'm being counted. Named. Archived.
And suddenly, the whisper between? It's quiet.
Too quiet.
I want to believe they're still there—my guardian. My guide.
But maybe even they are afraid of what's coming.
Maybe some things can't be protected from.
Maybe I was never meant to remember.
But I do.
And that… might be the problem.
---
[CONTINUES...]