chapter 6
588 Words
The next morning, Mira woke up feeling like she hadn’t slept at all. Her eyes burned. Her body was heavy. But she got dressed anyway.
If she didn’t move, she’d start unraveling.
The subway was packed, and her mind kept looping the messages. The image. The name. Elena. Over and over until her fingers tightened around the rail.
School was louder today. Busier. She blended in easier or tried to.
In International Politics, Rachel was already seated, chewing gum and scribbling notes in a sparkly notebook. She waved the moment she saw Mira.
“Girl, you look like death,” Rachel whispered.
Mira gave a weak smile. “Didn’t sleep.”
Rachel leaned in, eyes narrowing. “You okay? You’ve been weird since yesterday.”
“I’m fine,” Mira lied.
Rachel didn’t buy it. She kept sneaking glances at her throughout class.
When Professor Langstone asked a discussion question, Mira stayed quiet even though she knew the answer. Her chest felt tight. Like she was being watched.
After class, Rachel followed her down the hall.
“Talk to me,” she said. “You’re either about to drop out or commit a crime.”
“I’m just tired, Rachel.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “Tired doesn’t make you look like you’re being hunted.”
Mira froze.
Rachel’s face shifted. “...Wait. You are being hunted?”
“No.” Mira forced a chuckle. “It’s just an expression.”
“Right,” Rachel muttered. “Well, don’t end up on the news, okay?”
They reached the steps, and that’s when she heard it.
“Hey, mystery girl. You dropped this.”
Mira turned.
A tall, cocky-looking guy in a Saint Laurent bomber jacket was holding out a notebook her notebook even though she was holding hers.
He winked.
She frowned. “That’s not mine.”
“Oh. My mistake,” he smirked. “You just looked like the type to forget things.”
Rachel groaned under her breath. “Ignore him. That’s Tyler James. Trust fund brat, entitled prick, and allergic to rejection.”
Tyler was already walking off, tossing the notebook into his bag like it had been a joke.
“Great,” Mira muttered.
Back at the apartment, the air shifted the moment she stepped inside.
He was back.
Kairo’s duffle bag was by the wall again, and his voice carried faintly from the kitchen. He was on the phone speaking in another language. Romanian, maybe?
She paused. Listened. But the moment he saw her, he ended the call.
“You’re back,” she said.
He nodded. “Told you it was quick.”
She waited for more, but that was it. He looked tired. Leaner, even. His jaw was sharper, his eyes a little more distant.
He poured himself coffee like nothing happened.
She wanted to ask him if anything had happened. If he had seen the messages. If he knew.
But something in his face made her stop.
That night, she passed Dylan on the way up from the corner store. He didn’t greet her this time.
Just looked at her.
Long and hard.
“You attract trouble,” he said quietly. “I can feel it.”
She didn’t respond.
When she got to her room, she locked the door again — twice. Just like before.
She couldn’t shake the feeling anymore.
Something was cracking. Whether it was the past catching up, the tension with Kairo, or Tyler’s sudden interest
she didn’t know.
But she felt it.
Lurking. Watching.
Waiting.
- Writer
