I’d started checking over my shoulder.
Every time a door creaked open, every shadow that stretched past the window made my chest tighten. At first, I thought I was being paranoid. That maybe it was stress—Liam, the rumors, the messages. But last night, I knew I wasn’t imagining things.
Someone had been outside my window.
I heard their breath. I felt their presence like cold breath on the back of my neck. And when I turned on the lights, the bushes rustled like someone had just darted away.
I hadn’t slept since.
Now, sitting across from Adrian in his office, where the warmth of his gaze made me feel safer than I wanted to admit, I finally let the words slip.
“I think someone’s following me,” I said, my voice smaller than I liked.
He looked up sharply from the book in his hands, brows
