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The man looked directly into my eyes.
And smiled.
Not warmly.
Knowingly.
Every instinct inside me screamed.
Leave.
I stood up so quickly that the chair scraped loudly against the floor.
The sound made everyone in the reception area look at me.
"Miss Morgan?"
The security officer frowned, half-rising from his chair.
"Are you alright?"
I wanted to say yes.
I wanted to tell him everything.
That someone was trying to kill me.
That I could hear a stranger's thoughts inside my head.
That I didn't know who to trust anymore.
But when I looked past him...
The man was still watching me.
Calm.
Patient.
Almost like he knew exactly what I was thinking.
A chill ran down my spine.
"I'm... I'm sorry."
My voice shook.
"I have to go."
"Miss Morgan, wait—"
I turned before he could finish.
I walked as fast as I could toward the glass doors.
Then faster.
I could hear voices calling behind me.
I didn't know if they were calling my name or someone else's.
I didn't stop to find out.
The moment I stepped outside, the cool air hit my face.
I kept walking.
Past students laughing together.
Past the café.
Past the library.
Everything around me looked exactly the same.
But nothing felt the same anymore.
I couldn't keep running around campus forever.
I had tried hiding.
I had tried asking for help.
Neither had worked.
I stopped beneath a large tree near the edge of campus and pulled out my phone one more time.
Mum.
Straight to voicemail.
Dad.
Voicemail.
I stared at the screen until it went dark.
A lump formed in my throat.
What was I doing?
Walking in circles?
Jumping every time someone looked at me?
Looking over my shoulder every few seconds?
I was exhausted.
Mentally.
Physically.
Emotionally.
There was only one place left that still felt real.
Home.
Maybe Mum and Dad were already there.
Maybe they'd been trying to call me.
Maybe there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for everything.
I held onto that tiny hope with both hands.
Because if I let it go...
I wasn't sure I'd have anything left.
Taking a slow, shaky breath, I started walking.
The journey home felt longer than it ever had before.
Every passing car made me flinch.
Every stranger made my heart race.
I checked behind me more times than I could count.
No voice.
No thoughts.
No black combat boots.
The silence should have been comforting.
Instead...
It felt like the kind of silence that comes before something terrible.
By the time I reached my street, my legs were aching.
I stopped at the corner and looked toward my house.
Everything looked...
Normal.
Dad's blue car was still parked outside.
The flower pots Mum watered every morning were exactly where they always were.
The curtains were open.
Relief washed over me so suddenly that my eyes filled with tears.
Maybe I really had been overthinking everything.
Maybe—
I hurried up the driveway.
"Mum?"
No answer.
I reached for the front door.
It swung open.
Unlocked.
I froze.
Dad never left the front door unlocked.
Never.
"Mum?"
Still nothing.
"Dad?"
Only silence answered.
Slowly, I stepped inside.
The living room looked almost untouched.
The television was off.
A mug of tea sat on the coffee table, cold now.
Dad's reading glasses rested neatly beside today's newspaper.
It looked as though someone had been sitting there only minutes ago...
...before suddenly leaving.
"Mum?"
My voice sounded impossibly small.
I searched the kitchen.
Empty.
The dining room.
Empty.
Upstairs.
Their bedroom.
Empty.
Mum's phone charger was still plugged into the wall.
Dad's wardrobe stood slightly open.
One drawer had been pulled halfway out.
Not ripped apart.
Not searched.
Just...
Left that way.
I checked every room.
Even mine.
Nothing.
No note.
No message.
No sign of a struggle.
Just...
Absence.
My hands trembled as I called Mum again.
Voicemail.
Dad.
Voicemail.
I slowly lowered my phone.
The house I'd lived in my whole life suddenly felt unfamiliar.
Like I was standing inside someone else's memories.
Then...
Something caught my eye.
On the hallway table...
Dad's house keys.
I frowned.
No.
That wasn't right.
Dad never went anywhere without them.
Ever.
My heart began pounding again.
I walked over slowly and picked them up.
They were cold.
Beneath them...
Was a plain white envelope.
No stamp.
No address.
Just one word written carefully across the front.
Morgan.
Not...
Aria.
Not...
Mr. and Mrs. Morgan.
Just...
Morgan.
I stared at it, my pulse roaring in my ears.
Whoever had left it...
Hadn't cared which one of us found it.
Only that one of us did.
With trembling fingers...
I slipped one finger beneath the flap.
- Writer
