Ivy’s POV
"Ivy, are you home?"
The voice of Lena echoed from my phone as I fumbled with the door lock. It was late—too late—and my heart pounded in my ears as I stepped into my apartment. The familiar creak of the door was replaced by an eerie silence that set my nerves on edge.
"Something’s wrong," I whispered, my voice barely audible. As soon as I pushed open the door, a wave of shock crashed over me.
My apartment was in disarray: drawers left open, scattered papers on the floor, and broken furniture that had been overturned.
But it wasn’t just the mess—on the wall near the entryway, a large symbol was etched in fresh, glistening red. A crescent moon, its curve dripping with what looked like blood.
I froze. My mind raced, trying to process the sight. "Who would do this?" I mutter
