Chapter 20 - The Second Message
1296 Words
Morning light spilled through Maeve’s curtains, soft and golden. For a brief moment, she thought she had imagined the message from yesterday. The world looked calm, ordinary, full of little sounds she knew well — the drip of the tap, the hum of the fridge, the distant voices of children walking to school. But when she reached for her phone, her chest tightened.
A new message.
It read: You cannot hide from what you started.
Her pulse quickened. She sat still for a long time, staring at the words. The number was the same as before. She deleted the message, then turned off the phone completely, her fingers trembling slightly.
The air inside the trailer felt too quiet. She pushed open the door and stepped outside, breathing in the cool morning air. The sky was pale blue, streaked with thin clouds. For a moment, she thought she saw a car parked across the street with tinted windows, but when she blinked, it was gone.
By the time she reached Moordale, she had almost convinced herself she was imagining it. Almost.
Otis was waiting near the steps, leaning against the railing with his usual uncertain smile. The sight of him steadied her a little.
“You look like you did not sleep,” he said softly.
“I didn’t,” she admitted.
He hesitated. “Was it another message?”
She nodded. “Same number.”
He frowned, his jaw tightening. “We should tell my mum again.”
“We will,” Maeve said. “But not right now. I do not want it to control everything. Not today.”
Otis studied her face for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. Today we focus on the clinic.”
Eric joined them soon after, wearing an oversized denim jacket and a determined expression. “Good morning, emotional warriors. I hope you are both ready for chaos. I have six new requests already, and one of them involves a student who fell in love with his math tutor.”
Maeve raised an eyebrow. “That sounds familiar.”
Eric grinned. “Life imitates art, my dear.”
They headed to the clinic room together. The air inside still smelled faintly of coffee and new paint. Maeve sat at the desk while Otis pinned new notes on the board.
Students came and went all morning. Some asked about love, others about fear, heartbreak, confusion. It felt real again — the reason they had started this in the first place. Maeve found herself smiling at small things, laughing with Otis over their awkward moments, forgetting for a while that someone out there was watching.
At lunch, they sat together under a tree behind the building. The grass was damp, and the wind carried the smell of rain and earth. Eric talked non-stop about an upcoming school event, while Maeve and Otis shared quiet glances between his stories.
Eric eventually stood up. “Okay, I have to go make sure my outfit for the talent show is still fabulous. You two behave.”
Maeve smirked. “We will try.”
When he left, silence settled between them. It was not awkward, just heavy with everything that did not need to be said.
Otis looked at her carefully. “You do not have to be strong all the time, you know.”
Maeve looked at him. “And you do not have to fix everything.”
He smiled faintly. “Old habits.”
She sighed softly. “You know, I used to think love was just another trick. Something people used to make each other weak. But lately, it feels like it might be the only thing that makes us stronger.”
He studied her face, his voice quiet. “It is the only thing that feels real to me.”
The words hung there, gentle and true.
Maeve reached for his hand, her fingers brushing his. It felt simple and right. For the first time in a long time, she let herself feel the quiet joy of just being near him.
The sound of a phone broke the stillness. Otis looked down, confused. “It is not mine.”
Maeve checked her bag. Her phone, which she had turned off earlier, was glowing faintly. Somehow it had powered itself back on.
A new message flashed on the screen: You should not have reopened it.
Otis’s stomach dropped. “He is still watching.”
Maeve stared at the words, her throat tight. “How does he know about the clinic? We never announced it online.”
Eric reappeared at that moment, waving a notebook. “Guys, you need to see this.”
He opened it to a page with a printed email. “I got this on the clinic’s account. It looks like a normal submission, but the address is fake.”
The email read: You are repeating history. Curiosity always leads to ruin.
Maeve felt a chill run through her. “He is sending messages to all of us now.”
Otis took a deep breath. “We need to talk to my mum tonight. No arguments this time.”
They spent the rest of the day trying to act normal, though each moment felt slightly off, as if the air around them had shifted. Even laughter felt thinner.
When evening came, Otis and Maeve went to Jean’s house. Eric joined them, quieter than usual. Jean listened without interrupting as they showed her the messages and the email.
When they finished, she folded her hands on the table. “He is escalating. The fact that he reached all three of you means he is watching closely.”
Otis frowned. “How is that even possible? He disappeared.”
Jean shook her head. “People like him do not vanish. They adapt. He might have contacts, or access to old systems from his previous work. What matters now is that we protect ourselves.”
Maeve leaned forward. “What do you mean?”
Jean looked at them carefully. “Do not respond. Do not post about the clinic again. Keep everything offline. And stay together as much as possible.”
Eric nodded. “Strength in numbers. I like that plan.”
Jean gave a small smile. “Good. Because this is not about fear. It is about awareness.”
They stayed for a while longer, planning and talking. When they finally left, the sky had turned deep blue. The streets glistened from recent rain, and the sound of frogs filled the air.
Otis walked Maeve home again. They said little, but the quiet between them felt full. When they reached the trailer, Maeve turned to him.
“Do you think this will ever stop?”
He looked at her. “Maybe not. But we do not have to let it win.”
She smiled faintly. “You always know what to say.”
“Only when it comes to you,” he said softly.
Her breath caught for a moment. Then she leaned in and kissed him. It was slow, gentle, and real. A moment that said more than any words could.
When they pulled apart, she smiled. “That was overdue.”
He laughed quietly. “Definitely.”
She looked at him, eyes bright. “Good night, Otis.”
“Good night, Maeve.”
She went inside, and he stood there for a while, letting the warmth of the moment linger. The world felt almost safe again.
Almost.
Across the street, behind a flickering streetlight, the same black car waited. Inside, the man watched as Otis walked away. He lifted his phone, typing a new message, but did not send it yet.
He whispered to himself, voice calm and measured. “Soon.”
Then he smiled and disappeared into the night.
- Writer
