That night—
I couldn't sleep.
Not because of noise.
Not because of anything around me.
But because of something I couldn't ignore.
Her.
That moment.
That window.
The way the curtain moved.
She was there.
I knew she was.
And yet—
I couldn't reach her.
I stared at my phone.
Old.
Cracked.
Slow.
Useless.
Because even if I wanted to—
I didn't have her number.
Not really.
Not officially.
We never got that far.
Everything between us happened in moments.
In conversations.
In silence.
Not in things like messages.
Not until now.
A vibration.
I froze.
Slowly—
I looked down.
Unknown number.
Again.
My chest tightened.
For a second—
I thought it was them.
Another warning.
Another threat.
But then—
Another message came.
"Don't reply."
I blinked.
That was new.
Another message.
"They might be watching."
My grip tightened around the phone.
"…What?"
My voice barely came out.
Then—
The third message.
"It's me."
Everything stopped.
Her.
It had to be.
No one else would say that.
No one else could.
My heart started beating faster.
I looked around instinctively.
My room.
Small.
Quiet.
Nothing unusual.
But her words stayed.
"They might be watching."
My fingers hovered over the screen.
I wanted to reply.
To ask if she was okay.
To ask what happened.
To ask everything.
But I didn't.
Because if she said not to—
There was a reason.
Another message.
"I'm not allowed to leave."
My chest tightened.
Of course she wasn't.
But seeing it—
Reading it—
Made it real.
"They took my phone."
Then how—
"This isn't mine."
That explained it.
Temporary.
Hidden.
Risky.
Another message came slower this time.
Like she was being careful.
"I don't have much time."
I swallowed.
Because suddenly—
Every second mattered.
"I'm sorry."
My expression tightened.
For what?
None of this was her fault.
But I understood why she said it.
Because people like her—
They carry responsibility for things they didn't choose.
Another message.
"I didn't think it would happen this fast."
Neither did I.
But that's how it works.
Power moves quickly.
Before you can react.
Before you can prepare.
Before you can stop it.
The next message took longer.
And when it came—
It hit harder than anything else.
"Did you mean it?"
I frowned slightly.
Mean what?
Then—
I remembered.
"…I think they're right."
My words.
From yesterday.
She was asking about that.
My chest tightened.
Because now—
It wasn't just about pressure.
It wasn't just about her family.
It was about us.
And what I chose.
Another message.
"About staying away."
I exhaled slowly.
Because this—
This was the question.
The real one.
The one that mattered.
I looked at the screen.
At the empty space where I could reply.
At everything that had happened.
The warnings.
The pressure.
The distance.
And then—
Her.
Sitting next to me.
Choosing me.
Refusing to walk away.
Even when it would've been easier.
Even when it would've been safer.
My fingers moved.
Slow.
Careful.
Because if they were watching—
This mattered.
I typed.
Then stopped.
Then typed again.
One message.
Simple.
Clear.
I hit send.
A few seconds passed.
Then—
Her reply came.
Fast.
Too fast.
Like she was waiting.
"I knew it."
I frowned slightly.
Knew what?
Another message.
"You're terrible at lying."
For the first time—
I almost smiled.
Just a little.
Even now—
Even like this—
She sounded the same.
Another message came.
Slower.
Softer.
"Don't come here again."
My chest tightened.
That wasn't what I expected.
"It's not safe."
Of course it wasn't.
I already knew that.
But hearing it from her—
Made it different.
Real.
Another pause.
Then—
One last message.
"But don't disappear either."
I froze.
Because that—
That was everything.
Distance.
But not separation.
Danger.
But not the end.
A line—
We weren't supposed to cross.
But weren't ready to let go of either.
I stared at the screen.
At her words.
At what this meant.
And for the first time—
I understood something clearly.
This wasn't over.
Not even close.
If anything—
This was just the beginning.