By Friday evening, Aria could no longer contain the storm building inside her.
The texts. The feather. The near-misses. Kael's face appearing everywhere she turned.
It was too much.
She slammed her notebook shut in the campus café, startling Lena, who nearly spilled her drink.
"Okay, seriously," Lena frowned, "what's going on with you?"
Aria's breath came in shallow bursts. She had held it in too long, swallowed too much doubt. Her hands shook as she leaned across the table.
"It's Kael," she whispered. "He's everywhere, Lena. He's watching me. He knows things about me he shouldn't. Things I've never told anyone."
Lena blinked, then gave a slow, skeptical smile. "Aria, come on. He probably just… likes you. Guys get weird when they don't know how to say it."
Aria's stomach dropped. "Likes me?" Her voice rose. "Is that what you think this is? Do you think this is romantic?"
Lena raised her hands defensively. "I'm just saying maybe you're overthinking. Maybe you're seeing patterns that aren't there because of—" she stopped, biting her lip.
"Because of what?" Aria's tone sharpened.
Lena's eyes softened. "Because of… your dad. After everything you went through, maybe you're just… sensitive to people being close."
The words struck like a slap.
Aria shoved her chair back so hard it scraped the floor. People turned to look, but she didn't care.
"Forget it," she snapped, grabbing her bag. "You don't get it. You'll never get it."
And before Lena could respond, Aria stormed out into the night, her pulse racing, her chest tight with betrayal.
---
The streets were quiet when she finally slowed, her breath visible in the cool air. She wrapped her arms around herself, her anger simmering into something heavier. Lonelier.
That was when she heard him.
"Aria."
Her whole body went rigid.
She turned—and there he was, leaning casually against the lamppost as if he'd been waiting all along. His dark eyes gleamed beneath the flickering light, and the way he looked at her made the world feel smaller, tighter.
"You're wasting time," Kael said softly, stepping closer. "Pretending you don't know me. Pretending you don't remember."
Aria's heart thundered. She stumbled back, shaking her head. "I don't know you."
He smiled. Not cruel, not kind—just certain.
"Yes, you do."
He tilted his head, lowering his voice until it was a whisper only she could hear.
"Little Star."
Her breath caught.
Her father's voice echoed in her mind. The nickname only he ever used, one he whispered at bedtime when he tucked her in. A name she hadn't heard since the day he died.
Her legs nearly gave way.
"How—" her voice cracked. "How do you know that?"
Kael's smile deepened, as if she had just proved his point.