Ghosts Don't Stay Buried
1050 Words
The photograph shook in Selene's hand.
Not visibly.
Not enough for anyone else to notice.
But she felt it.
The tiny tremor running through her fingers.
The loss of control.
The crack in the carefully maintained composure she had spent years building.
Her eyes remained fixed on the image.
Three people.
One scratched-out face.
One terrified younger version of herself.
And him.
The man she had spent years convincing herself she would never see again.
The man who wasn't supposed to matter anymore.
The man whose shadow had followed her long after she escaped.
For several moments she couldn't move.
Couldn't think.
Couldn't breathe properly.
The room suddenly felt smaller.
The air felt thinner.
The years separating her from that version of herself seemed to disappear.
As though the past had simply been waiting.
Patiently.
Quietly.
For the perfect moment to return.
A floorboard creaked somewhere behind her.
Selene spun around instantly.
The room was empty.
No one stood in the doorway.
No movement.
No sound.
Yet the feeling remained.
Someone had been here recently.
Maybe they still were.
Watching.
Waiting.
Enjoying her reaction.
The realization made her stomach twist.
She folded the photograph and slipped it into her coat pocket.
Whatever game was being played, she wasn't staying to become part of it.
Not today.
Outside, the sky had darkened.
Clouds gathered overhead.
Heavy and threatening.
Selene exited the building quickly.
The moment she stepped onto the sidewalk, she felt marginally safer.
Not safe.
Just safer.
There was a difference.
She walked toward her car without looking back.
Without allowing herself to think about the photograph.
Without acknowledging the fear clawing at her chest.
Unfortunately, denial only worked for so long.
Across town, Adrian sat in his office staring at the photograph he had received.
The image of Selene standing outside the abandoned building filled his screen.
Someone had sent it intentionally.
Someone wanted him involved.
The question was why.
His office door opened.
Damian entered carrying another file.
"You're going to hate this."
Adrian looked up.
"That sounds promising."
Damian dropped the file onto the desk.
"I tracked the phone number that sent the photo."
"And?"
"It doesn't exist."
Adrian frowned.
"What does that mean?"
"It means whoever contacted you knows exactly how to hide their tracks."
That wasn't reassuring.
Not even slightly.
Damian folded his arms.
"This situation is getting strange."
"It's been strange from the beginning."
"No."
Damian shook his head.
"Now it's becoming deliberate."
The distinction mattered.
A lot.
Because accidents happened.
Coincidences happened.
This didn't feel like either.
It felt orchestrated.
Like someone was carefully arranging pieces on a chessboard.
And Adrian wasn't sure whether he was a player or a pawn.
That evening, Selene returned home.
The photograph remained in her pocket.
She hadn't looked at it again.
Hadn't needed to.
The image was already burned into her memory.
She placed her keys on the kitchen counter.
Then froze.
A cold sensation moved through her body.
Something was different.
Very different.
At first she couldn't identify what it was.
Then she saw it.
One of the picture frames in her living room had been moved.
Only slightly.
Just enough.
Most people wouldn't notice.
Selene did.
Because she always noticed.
Slowly, she crossed the room.
Every nerve in her body was screaming.
The frame contained an ordinary photograph.
Nothing important.
Nothing valuable.
Yet someone had touched it.
Someone had entered her apartment.
Again.
And wanted her to know.
A folded note sat behind the frame.
Waiting.
Her pulse quickened.
She unfolded it.
Only three words were written inside.
Remember the bridge?
Selene immediately closed her eyes.
Because she remembered.
She remembered far too well.
Rain began falling outside.
The sound against the windows filled the apartment.
Yet it couldn't drown out the memory.
The bridge.
The night.
The screams.
The panic.
The mistake.
A mistake that changed everything.
A mistake connected to Sophia Reed.
Not Selene Hart.
Sophia Reed.
The name she had abandoned.
The life she had buried.
The life that refused to stay dead.
For years she had convinced herself nobody knew the full truth.
Now she wasn't so sure.
Elsewhere, Adrian stood on the balcony of his penthouse.
The city stretched endlessly below.
Normally he found the view calming.
Tonight it did nothing.
His phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
Again.
He answered immediately.
"Who is this?"
Silence.
Then a voice.
Distorted.
Artificial.
Impossible to identify.
"You should stop looking into her."
Adrian's expression hardened.
"Who are you?"
The caller ignored the question.
"Some warnings are worth listening to."
The line disconnected.
Just like that.
Adrian stared at the screen.
The conversation had lasted less than ten seconds.
Yet it accomplished exactly what it was intended to accomplish.
It made him more determined.
Not less.
Near midnight, Selene finally unfolded the photograph again.
The one from the abandoned building.
The one warning her that he was coming back.
She stared at the man's face.
Trying to understand.
Trying to decide.
If the message was true, she had a problem.
A serious one.
If the message was false, she still had a problem.
Because someone wanted her to believe it.
Either way, she was being manipulated.
And she hated being manipulated.
A soft knock suddenly echoed through the apartment.
Selene froze.
Another knock followed.
Three slow taps.
Nothing more.
No voice.
No explanation.
Just the knock.
Her pulse accelerated.
Nobody visited her this late.
Nobody.
Carefully, she approached the door.
Looked through the peephole.
And immediately frowned.
Because standing outside wasn't a stranger.
It was Adrian Vale.
Alone.
Concern written clearly across his face.
For a moment she simply stared.
Confused.
Surprised.
Then she opened the door.
"Adrian?"
His eyes searched hers immediately.
As though checking she was unharmed.
"Are you okay?"
The question caught her off guard.
Because he sounded genuinely worried.
Not curious.
Not suspicious.
Worried.
For several seconds she didn't know what to say.
Then she noticed something in his hand.
A photograph.
The same photograph he had been sent earlier.
The one showing her outside the abandoned building.
And suddenly she understood.
Someone wasn't just targeting her anymore.
They were pulling Adrian deeper into the mystery.
Exactly as the note had warned.
Why was Adrian sent the photograph, and what happened on the bridge that still terrifies Selene years later?
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD