Kaven was asleep on the couch now, one arm draped over his face, breathing uneven. Lara sat at the kitchen table, still in the same clothes, staring at the window he'd climbed through.
She hadn't locked it again.
She didn't know why.
It was 3:17 a.m.
The city outside was dead silent — too silent for a Thursday night in Grencross. Even the drunk guy from the corner store hadn't yelled tonight. Something about that silence felt… wrong.
She got up to make tea. Her hands were still shaky from everything.
As the kettle started to hum, she glanced at the small whiteboard by the fridge — the one she used to jot down groceries and reminders.
There was writing on it.
In thick, black ink.
> "You're not supposed to help him."
Her spine stiffened. The marker fell from her fingers.
That wasn't there before.
She would've seen it.
Lara turned toward Kaven — still asleep, completely still.
She rushed over, shook him.
"Wake up. Now!"
He groaned, sitting up fast. "What is it?"
She pointed. "Did you write that?"
"What?"
He blinked at the message, then slowly stood up. "No. I didn't touch that board."
They stared at it.
The handwriting was neat, straight, completely unfamiliar.
Then Kaven said something that made Lara's skin crawl.
"…I saw this same sentence yesterday. On a paper in my jacket pocket. I thought I was hallucinating."
They looked at each other.
The silence returned — heavy, almost unnatural.
Suddenly, there was a knock.
Three short knocks.
Then nothing.
They didn't move.
Kaven whispered, "Don't open it."
Another knock. Slower. Louder.
Lara backed away, heart pounding.
But when Kaven finally opened the door — fast, like a challenge — there was no one there.
Just a black envelope on the floor.
It had Lara's name written on it.
In the same handwriting.
---
End of the Chapter 6