The room feels suffocating now, as if the very walls are closing in around me. The figure standing in front of me, his face half-shrouded by the shadow of his hood, feels like a ghost from my past. My heart stutters in my chest as recognition flickers like a distant memory, but I can't quite place it. The feeling of dread settles deep in my bones, and I know that whatever this is, it's only going to get worse.
The man's eyes lock with mine, and for a moment, everything else fades away. It's as if time itself has frozen, and I'm stuck in this moment, this terrifying moment, with only his gaze to hold me captive.
"You don't remember me, do you, Amara?" His voice is smooth, almost taunting, and yet there's a chill to it that makes every hair on the back of my neck stand up. "I thought you would have by now."
I try to steady my breathing, trying to gather the strength to speak, to ask him who he is, what he wants, but the words are stuck in my throat, too heavy to escape. My mind races, scrambling for a connection, a clue, anything that could explain this haunting figure standing before me.
Vance steps forward, his body tense, protective. "Who the hell are you?" he demands, his voice low but laced with anger.
The man doesn't respond immediately. He just smiles, an unsettling curve of his lips, as if he finds our confusion amusing. Then, finally, he speaks again.
"Maybe you'll remember once I remind you of what's been buried for so long."
I can feel my pulse quicken, fear rising in my chest. I glance at Elias, who's still standing across from the man, his expression unreadable. But I see the flicker of recognition in his eyes, too.
"Don't," Elias says sharply, his voice suddenly cold, like a warning.
But it's too late. The man steps forward, his movements slow and deliberate, drawing closer with each passing second. My heart races, and I instinctively take a step back, my body reacting before my mind can catch up.
"You've been running from me for years, Amara," the man continues, his voice smooth, like he's speaking to someone he knows intimately. "You've been hiding, pretending you don't remember, but deep down, you do."
I take a shaky breath, trying to hold myself together, but the words keep echoing in my mind. Running? Hiding? What is he talking about?
Vance moves again, positioning himself between me and the man. "Get the hell away from her," he growls, his tone filled with protective fury.
The man doesn't flinch. Instead, he tilts his head, studying Vance with a look of mild amusement. "You think you can stop me?" he asks, almost mockingly. "You don't even know what's at stake here."
I feel the weight of his words settle over me, a heavy pressure pressing down on my chest. What's at stake? What does he mean?
Suddenly, everything comes crashing back. A fragment of a memory, a moment long buried in the corners of my mind, surfaces.
A place I thought I'd left behind.
A face I never thought I'd see again.
I gasp, my hand flying to my mouth as the realization hits me like a punch to the gut. It's him. It's really him.
The man standing in front of me—he's the one who destroyed everything. He's the reason I had to leave. He's the reason I've been running for so long.
"No…" I whisper, my voice trembling. "No, it can't be you…"
But it is.
His smile widens, and he steps closer, his eyes dark and cold. "I see you remember now. I knew you would."
The room spins as my mind reels. I don't know what to do, how to process what's happening. The memories rush in, overwhelming me, and I'm back there—back in the dark place I thought I'd escaped.
Vance steps toward the man, his expression filled with determination, but I can see the tension in his body. He's ready to fight, but I don't know if he's prepared for what's coming. None of us are.
"You don't get it," the man says, his voice now carrying a dangerous edge. "This isn't about you, Vance. This is about her. This is about Amara."
I can feel the weight of his words settling in the pit of my stomach. It's like a cold hand reaching into my chest, squeezing my heart.
"What do you want from me?" I finally ask, my voice breaking through the haze of fear and confusion.
The man's smile falters, just for a moment, before he answers. "I want what's mine."
The words hit me like a slap. I feel the room tilt, my knees going weak beneath me as his words sink in. My mind struggles to make sense of them, but the meaning is too clear.
He's been watching me. Waiting for the right moment.
"You don't know who you're dealing with," I say, my voice shaking, but there's something else behind it now. A surge of anger, of defiance. "I won't let you destroy me."
He steps forward, his expression dark, but there's something else in his eyes now—something almost… disappointed. "You still don't get it. You never did. This was never about you trying to stop me. It's about you accepting your place in all of this."
I don't know how to respond. I don't know what to say to make this stop, to make him go away.
But then, as if on cue, the sound of sirens rises again, louder now, closer. The police are almost here. I don't know if it's too late, but it feels like we're running out of time.
The man glances toward the door, his eyes narrowing, and for a moment, I see a flash of something—fear? Panic? I can't be sure. But it's enough to make him hesitate.
"Amara," Elias says suddenly, his voice firm, authoritative. "This isn't over. But we can still stop him."
I meet his gaze, my heart pounding in my chest. Stop him? How? What does that even mean?
Before I can ask, the man turns, a final smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "This isn't over," he says coldly. "Not by a long shot."
And with that, he disappears into the shadows, leaving us in stunned silence, the ticking clock now the only sound in the room.