"Elena, are you okay?"
The voice pulled her from her thoughts.
Mira, her classmate — always nosy, always watching.
"I'm fine," Elena lied, closing her locker and forcing a small smile.
"You haven't been talking to anyone lately. And yesterday… you just stared at your window the whole class."
Elena's heart clenched.
"Just tired," she whispered.
Mira tilted her head. "Did someone… do something to you?"
Elena flinched. Her eyes shot up.
"No."
Mira didn't believe her. She stepped closer, lowering her voice.
"Because I saw someone outside your building last night."
Elena froze.
"What?"
"He was across the street. Just standing there. Looking up at your window. I almost called the cops."
Blood drained from Elena's face.
Mira leaned in. "Who is he?"
"I—I don't know," Elena lied again.
She walked away before Mira could ask more.
But the air had changed. She could feel it.
Someone else knew now.
---
That night, she didn't find a flower.
She found a new note.
This one… harsher.
> "Don't let her ask again."
"This is between you and me."
"Next time, I won't be gentle."
Taped to it was a photo.
Mira. Walking home.
Luca had followed her now.
Elena's chest tightened. Her eyes blurred with panic.
But she couldn't scream. Couldn't tell anyone.
Because she knew:
Luca was always there.
Watching.
Listening.
And if she broke the unspoken rules…
He'd remind her who was in control.
---
Somewhere nearby, Luca paced in the shadows.
That girl—Mira—she was a threat.
But Elena was learning. Slowly.
The warning had to be sharp enough to sting, but not deep enough to scar.
He didn't hurt. He didn't have to.
His silence was enough.
---