First Contact
380 Words
I didn’t have to wait long.
By noon, Cole showed up at the house—looking like he just stepped out of a perfume ad. Same smug smile, same sharp suit.
“Stella,” he said, voice soft, like I was some fragile glass doll.
I kept my eyes on the book in my lap. “So, they sent you, huh?”
He blinked, caught off guard. “No one sent me. I just heard you were awake.”
“Yeah? From who? Bree? Dad?”
His face twitched. Got him.
Cole was always one of those “too perfect” guys—clean cut, expensive cologne, tie always just right. Back then, I kinda liked that. Now? It just makes me sick.
He stepped closer. “I was worried. Doctors said you might not make it.”
I closed the book slowly, looked him dead in the eye.
“Oh, you mean when I conveniently collapsed at my own wedding rehearsal dinner?” I smiled—sweet but sharp. “Tell me, Cole. When did your guilt kick in?”
He opened his mouth... then nothing.
For a split second, panic flashed in his eyes. He had no idea I’d been dead. No clue I remembered everything.
I stood up, walked to the window, voice calm.
“I’ve had a lot of time to think about who’s around me. Who I trusted.”
Turned to him, slow.
“Trust? That’s a luxury I can’t afford anymore.”
“Stella—”
“I’m fine,” I cut in quickly, then softened up. “Just tired.”
He watched me, then nodded. “If you need anything—anything at all…”
He left it hanging.
I gave him a long look. “Actually, there is something.”
He straightened, hopeful.
“Tell Bree I said hi.”
He blinked.
Checkmate.
That night, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to put the pieces together.
Cole was involved. No doubt.
But he looked nervous today. Shaky. Like he’d gotten in way over his head.
Which meant... someone else was pulling the strings.
My phone buzzed before I could even grab it.
Unknown Number: You weren’t supposed to remember.
I gripped the phone tight.
Finally, someone made a move.
- Writer
