Meera's POV
I knew I wasn't imagining it.
For days I had tried to convince myself that what I was seeing—what I was feeling—was only my mind playing tricks on me.
A new country.
A new life.
Loneliness.
Stress from classes.
All the things that could make a person start imagining shadows where there were none.
But that night proved one thing very clearly.
Someone was there.
Someone real.
Someone watching me.
And for a moment—just a brief, flickering moment—I had seen his face.
It had happened so quickly that my mind struggled to process it.
I remembered sitting up in my bed, my heart suddenly racing for no reason I could understand. Something inside me had whispered that I wasn't alone.
That feeling had become familiar over the past month.
At first I ignored it.
Then I grew uneasy.
Now it had turned into full-blown fear.
When I pulled the curtain aside and looked out of the window, the courtyard was dark like always. The campus trees swayed slowly in the cold night breeze.
For a second I thought I had imagined everything again.
But then—
Movement.
Just a fraction.
A shadow shifting near the tree line.
And in the faint glow of a distant lamp, I saw him.
Tall.
Broad shoulders.
Standing completely still.
Watching.
My breath caught in my throat.
Before my brain could even process what was happening, he moved.
Fast.
Too fast.
Within seconds the shadow disappeared into darkness.
Gone.
Just like that.
I stood there for a long time.
Frozen.
My fingers still gripping the edge of the curtain.
My mind replayed the moment again and again.
Someone had been watching me.
And when I saw him—
He ran.
That thought confused me almost as much as it terrified me.
If he was dangerous… why run?
If he meant harm… why hide?
Why had he just been standing there?
Watching?
The questions piled up inside my head like a storm.
My heart was beating so loudly I could hear it in my ears.
I quickly shut the curtains.
Then I checked the door.
Locked.
I checked it twice.
Then the windows.
Then the door again.
Every small noise in the dorm hallway suddenly sounded suspicious.
Footsteps.
Doors opening.
Someone laughing far away.
My imagination began turning every ordinary sound into something threatening.
I wrapped my arms around myself and sat on the edge of my bed.
"Calm down, Meera," I whispered.
My voice sounded small in the quiet room.
"You're safe."
But was I?
Back home in India, things like this rarely happened to me.
My life had been simple.
School.
Home.
Family.
My parents always knew where I was.
My father would pick me up from tuition classes.
My mother would call every hour if I went out with friends.
Safety had always existed around me like an invisible shield.
But here—
In a country thousands of miles away—
Everything felt uncertain.
Everything felt unfamiliar.
I suddenly felt very small.
Very alone.
I walked slowly back to my bed and sat down again.
Part of me wanted to call my parents immediately.
Tell them everything.
Tell them someone was watching me.
Tell them I was scared.
But I stopped myself.
What would they do?
They were in India.
Twelve thousand kilometers away.
All it would do was worry them.
My mother would panic.
My father would insist I come back home immediately.
And that wasn't possible.
I had worked too hard to get here.
Too many sacrifices had been made.
I couldn't let fear destroy that.
I lay down slowly under the blanket.
My eyes remained fixed on the ceiling.
The image of the shadow outside replayed again.
And again.
And again.
Then something strange happened.
Despite my fear… another thought appeared quietly in my mind.
He ran.
That detail refused to leave my thoughts.
If he truly wanted to harm me…
Why run away the moment I looked outside?
Why not come closer?
Why not knock?
Why not do something threatening?
Instead he had vanished like someone caught doing something he shouldn't.
That thought created a strange mixture of emotions inside me.
Fear.
Confusion.
And something else I couldn't fully explain.
A small sense of control.
Like somehow I had scared him away.
The idea gave me a tiny spark of courage.
"Maybe he's just… weird," I muttered softly.
"Maybe just some random guy."
America was a huge country.
People here were different.
More open.
More unpredictable.
My friend from orientation had once joked that strange people existed everywhere on American campuses.
Maybe this was just one of those situations.
Maybe someone had developed a stupid crush.
Maybe someone just liked watching people.
The thoughts were uncomfortable.
But they felt more manageable than imagining a dangerous criminal.
Eventually exhaustion began pulling my mind toward sleep.
My eyes closed slowly.
But before sleep fully claimed me, one final thought lingered in my mind.
I had seen his face.
Only for a moment.
Only when the distant light flickered across him.
But I remembered something about it.
His eyes.
Sharp.
Focused.
Not wild.
Not unstable.
They looked calm.
Almost… curious.
The memory made a small shiver travel through my body.
Morning came too quickly.
Sunlight filtered through the curtains, filling the room with warm brightness that made last night feel almost unreal.
Almost.
But not quite.
The memory still sat in my mind like a heavy stone.
As I got ready for class, I kept glancing toward the window.
Half expecting to see someone standing outside again.
But the courtyard looked completely normal.
Students walking to class.
People chatting.
Nothing strange.
Nothing suspicious.
Still, the feeling inside me refused to disappear.
I decided to tell someone.
Keeping it inside my head would only make things worse.
And there was only one person on campus I felt comfortable talking to.
Marcus.
Marcus Johnson was probably the most relaxed person I had ever met.
Tall.
Dark-skinned.
Always smiling.
And somehow able to turn every serious moment into something lighter.
We had met during a group discussion session in class two weeks earlier.
Since then he had become the closest thing I had to a friend here.
When I spotted him sitting outside the engineering building with his headphones around his neck, relief washed over me.
"Marcus!" I called.
He looked up and immediately grinned.
"Hey, Meera!"
He stood up and gave a casual wave.
"You look like someone stole your lunch money."
I hesitated.
Then I walked closer.
"Can I tell you something… weird?"
Marcus leaned against the railing.
"Weird is my specialty."
I explained everything.
The strange feeling of being watched.
The shadow outside my dorm.
Seeing someone near the trees.
And finally—last night.
When I finished speaking, Marcus was silent for a few seconds.
Then he nodded slowly.
"Well…"
He scratched his chin thoughtfully.
"First thing — you're not crazy."
That alone made me feel slightly better.
"But," he continued calmly, "this is America."
I blinked.
"What does that mean?"
He shrugged casually.
"It means weird stuff happens."
I stared at him.
"That's not comforting."
Marcus laughed.
"Okay, okay. Let me explain."
He leaned forward slightly.
"Stalkers exist. Creepy people exist. Especially on big campuses."
My stomach tightened.
"But that doesn't automatically mean you're in danger."
"How?"
"Because most of them are just… obsessed weirdos. They watch, they follow, but they rarely actually do anything."
The idea made my skin crawl.
"That's supposed to make me feel better?"
Marcus chuckled.
"I'm just being honest."
Then his tone became more serious.
"You did the right thing checking the cameras."
"They didn't find anything."
"That just means the guy's careful."
The thought sent another chill down my spine.
Marcus noticed immediately.
"Hey, relax," he said gently.
"Just stay aware of your surroundings. Lock your doors. Don't walk alone late at night."
I nodded slowly.
"I already do that."
"Good."
Then he gave me a reassuring smile.
"And if you ever feel uncomfortable, call me."
The offer surprised me.
"Really?"
"Of course."
Marcus shrugged casually.
"That's what friends do."
The word friends made something warm settle in my chest.
For the first time since arriving in America, I felt slightly less alone.
We continued talking while walking toward class.
Marcus started joking about professors and assignments, trying to lighten the mood.
Gradually my fear began fading.
The normal rhythm of campus life returned.
Students rushing to lectures.
People laughing.
Someone playing music loudly across the courtyard.
Everything felt ordinary again.
Almost safe.
Almost.
But what I didn't know was that someone else was watching.
Not from far away this time.
Not from the shadows near the trees.
But from a building across the courtyard.
From behind dark glass windows.
His eyes followed every movement I made.
Every step.
Every expression.
Every laugh.
And when he saw me standing beside Marcus… talking… smiling…
Something inside him shifted.
Not anger.
Not jealousy exactly.
But something colder.
More calculating.
Because Ethan Moretti had just noticed something new.
His little star was not completely alone.
And that… complicated things.