The building was old money — tucked in a quieter part of the city. Arabella had seen it in passing once, before she even knew Cassian. But now she stood in front of it, key in hand, heart racing.
Cassian hadn't stopped her.
He hadn't exactly let her go either.
But when she asked, "Where did she live?"
He just said one word:
"Tower 9."
---
Inside, the apartment was frozen in time.
A single coffee cup still sat on the kitchen counter. A scarf hung on the coat rack. Everything perfectly clean… untouched… like no one had the heart to move on.
Arabella moved carefully, like she might wake a ghost.
There was no picture of Cassian. But a mirror above the fireplace had a faint lipstick stain on the glass — like someone kissed their reflection every morning to feel seen.
She walked into the bedroom. It was empty — almost. Until she noticed the false drawer under the bed.
Inside was a notebook. Worn. Red leather cover.
She opened it.
The first page said:
> To A.Q.
If you're reading this, I'm probably already gone.
Arabella's heart stopped.
Her initials. A.Q.
It couldn't be coincidence.
She turned the page.
> "They'll say I left. Or ran. Or maybe worse.
But the truth is — I found something I wasn't meant to find.
And now I think… I was only ever a placeholder for someone else.
Someone with pink heels. And a black heart.
You."
Arabella dropped the journal.
It hit the carpet softly — but the sound boomed in her ears.
She was watching me. She knew me.
But how?
Why?
---
Suddenly, the lights flickered.
A noise came from the hall — the front door?
She grabbed the journal and backed up, heart in her throat.
Someone was in the apartment.
She held her breath, clutching the notebook like it could protect her.
A shadow passed the doorway.
Then silence.
Then the slow sound of the door closing again.
Whoever it was… they hadn't taken anything.
They just wanted her to know they were there.
Watching.
---
Back at home, she locked the bedroom door.
Cassian was asleep already, chest rising and falling slowly.
She slid the journal into the drawer on her side of the bed and climbed in beside him.
She didn't sleep.
Not really.
Not with the words echoing in her mind.
> Pink heels. And a black heart.
---