Chapter 17 – The Night He Didn’t Answer
579 Words
The clock on the wall ticked louder than usual, each second stretching into an unbearable echo in the hollow apartment. Evelyn sat on the armrest of the sofa, her hands wrapped around her own arms as if trying to hold herself together. Midnight had passed. Then one o’clock. Then two.
Liam always texted.
Even when he was busy.
Even when he was exhausted.
Even when they had argued.
Tonight, there was nothing.
No message.
No missed call.
No “I’ll be late.”
Nothing.
The silence suffocated her.
Earlier that day, she had tried to pretend everything was normal—she cleaned, cooked, showered, reorganized the bookshelf—but the truth was brutally obvious: the apartment felt emptier, colder, and frighteningly unfamiliar without him.
Her phone vibrated suddenly. Her heart leapt.
But it was just a promotional text from her mobile carrier.
Evelyn exhaled shakily and curled her knees to her chest. The memories of their conversation earlier replayed in her mind—Liam’s face, darkened by an emotion she couldn’t fully understand; his voice, low with tension; the warning he never finished.
“Evelyn… if anything happens, don’t open the door to—”
Who?
He never said.
She rubbed her forehead, trying to ease the headache forming behind her eyes. Maybe he was still angry. Maybe he needed space. Maybe—
A loud knock hit the door.
Her whole body froze.
Three knocks. Heavy. Impatient.
Evelyn’s breath hitched in her throat. She didn’t move, didn’t even blink.
Another round of knocks followed, louder this time, as if the person had grown annoyed.
Her heart hammered. Liam would never knock like that. He always used his keys.
She forced herself to speak, voice trembling.
“W–Who is it?”
Silence.
Then, slowly… the doorknob twisted.
Evelyn jumped to her feet, backing away toward the kitchen. She grabbed the first thing she could reach—a metal spatula. It was ridiculous, but it made her feel a little less helpless.
The doorknob twisted again.
And again.
Then it stopped.
For a moment, the hallway outside was deathly silent.
Just when she dared to take a small breath, a cold voice seeped through the door.
“You’re alone… aren’t you?”
Her blood ran cold.
She clutched the spatula tighter, every muscle tense.
The voice was raspy, male, and unfamiliar.
“Go away!” she yelled, surprising even herself. “I’ve already called security!”
A soft chuckle came from outside.
Mocking.
Amused.
Then footsteps retreated slowly, each step echoing down the corridor until the sound faded entirely.
Evelyn stood frozen, her breath shaky and uneven, until the apartment was silent again.
She didn’t sleep for the rest of the night.
She sat on the living room floor, staring at the shadow under the door, waiting for it to shift.
It never did.
But Liam never came home either.
And that scared her more than the voice outside.
By morning, her eyes burned with exhaustion, but instead of resting, she grabbed her phone and typed a message:
“Liam, please. Where are you?”
Delivered.
No reply.
She typed again.
“Someone came to the door last night. I’m scared.”
Still no reply.
Her chest tightened.
Something was wrong.
Terribly, undeniably wrong.
She didn’t know what was happening to him—or to them—but she knew one thing for certain:
Tonight, she wouldn’t survive another unanswered knock.
And she wouldn’t survive another night without him.
- Writer
