HER POV
I didn’t sleep much after I found the rose.
Or the necklace.
I’d wrapped it in a towel and shoved it in the back of a drawer, like that would hide the truth it carried. The cold silver still burned into my memory. The little red birthstone glinting like a drop of blood.
He knew my birthday.
He knew my body.
And he wasn’t gone.
I felt him everywhere.
In the creak of my floorboards.
In the faint scent of smoke on my pillow.
In the twitch at the back of my neck when I walked through campus, heart racing for no reason.
I couldn’t call the police.
What would I even say?
"Hi, I think I let my stalker finger me while I moaned his name and now he’s leaving me flowers and jewelry like a twisted, invisible boyfriend?"
They’d laugh me out of the precinct.
So I did what every go
