By evening, the flat had grown colder than usual. The radiator rattled weakly, offering little comfort. She pulled on a sweater and made tea, hoping the warmth would steady her nerves.
That was when the knock came.
Three sharp raps. Firm. Precise.
Her grip on the mug faltered, tea sloshing dangerously close to the rim. Nobody ever knocked at her door. She hadn't made friends in London yet, and deliveries usually buzzed through the main gate.
She tiptoed toward the door, pressing her ear against the wood. "Who's there?"
"Open," came the familiar voice. Calm, steady, but with a command that rooted her to the spot.
Her chest tightened. "Eli?"
Silence. Then again: "Open."
She unlatched the door slowly, heart thudding. And there he was. Eli. The golden-eyed figure, standing as though the hallway itself had been waiting for him. He stepped inside without asking permission, his presence filling the space like a storm cloud rolling over a quiet sky.
"You've been warned," he said simply, his voice carrying an edge that unsettled her. "The darkness that haunted your home in Lagos… it has followed you here. And it knows your every step."
Adaeze nearly laughed from the absurdity. "Are you listening to yourself? Shadows crossing continents? Please. I left all of that behind."
"You didn't leave," Eli replied, his gaze unyielding. "It came with you."