Zara didn't sleep.
Not really.
She'd dozed in Cain's bed—his side of the room felt oddly warmer—but her mind had refused to rest. The message haunted her:
"We know where you sleep. Try again, and he won't be the only one bleeding."
What did they mean by again? Was following Cain enough to trigger something this big? Or had someone been watching them all along?
Cain hadn't said a word after replying to the text. He just stood there in the dark, shoulders rigid, fists clenched like he could crush the night itself. Then he sat at the desk, staring out the window.
He didn't sleep either.
Not even a blink.
☀️ The Next Morning
Zara got dressed in silence. She'd barely zipped up her hoodie when Cain handed her something small and cold.
A pocket knife.
"I don't need this," she said, trying to hand it back.
He didn't take it.
"You do," he replied. "They'll think twice if they think you'll fight back."
Zara looked at him, really looked this time.
He wasn't just angry. He was scared.
Not for himself. For her.
"I have self-defense spray," she said softly.
"Spray won't stop them."
"They'll think I'm paranoid."
"Good," he muttered. "Maybe paranoia will keep you alive."
He ran a hand through his dark, disheveled hair and sat down heavily on his bed.
Zara tucked the knife into the inner pocket of her bag.
"I can't keep doing this," she said.
Cain's head turned. "Doing what?"
"Living in fear. Walking to class like I'm walking into a war zone. Looking over my shoulder."
His voice was quiet. "Welcome to my world."
📚 Class – 9:45 a.m.
The lecture on European Political Theory might as well have been static.
Zara couldn't focus. Not with the weight of Cain's warning still clinging to her skin. She noticed things she'd never paid attention to before—shifting glances, the guy in the back row who kept looking at his phone, the girl who brushed her hand against Zara's shoulder on the way out and whispered, "You should smile more."
What did that mean?
Was it just a stupid comment? Or a veiled threat?
She hated how suspicious she'd become.
Even worse? She hated how right Cain might be.
🕛 Noon – Courtyard
Zara sat under the trees near the campus center, trying to eat a dry sandwich. She picked at it more than she bit into it.
She noticed someone approaching before they even spoke.
A guy. Tall. Blond. Clean-cut. Too clean.
"Hey," he said, smiling. "You dropped this in class."
He held out a folded paper.
Zara took it, but her gut screamed.
"I don't think—"
"Just trying to help," he said, then turned and walked away before she could finish.
She unfolded the paper.
There was no message.
Just a drawing.
A crude sketch of a bed. Hers.
With a red X slashed through it.
🏃 Back to the Dorm
Cain was waiting when she burst into the room.
He was sitting cross-legged on the floor with a map spread in front of him, red strings connecting photos she didn't want to look too closely at.
He looked up the moment she slammed the door.
"What happened?"
She held up the paper. "I think they're following me."
He unfolded it, stared at it, then nodded slowly. "Yeah. This is their style. Symbolic threats. Scare tactics. No fingerprints."
"You've seen this before?" she asked.
He nodded.
Zara sat down hard on her bed. "I don't understand. You said they wanted you. Why target me?"
"Because you're leverage now."
Her head snapped toward him.
"You're a liability to them," he said. "Because you're connected to me. But you're also useful. Because you're connected to me."
Zara's voice shook. "You're not making any sense."
He stood and grabbed his black hoodie.
"Come with me."
🏙️ Downtown – 1:30 p.m.
Zara followed Cain through alleys and side streets she didn't even know existed. They moved through the underbelly of the city like ghosts—silent, quick, invisible.
They stopped outside an abandoned apartment complex with boarded windows and graffiti-tagged walls.
"This used to be a safehouse," he said.
"Used to be?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
He smirked faintly. "Until they found it."
He reached behind a crumbling column and pulled out a dusty storage box. Inside were files, photos, and what looked like schematics.
Cain opened one of the folders and spread it on the pavement.
Zara stared.
Each page had photos of young men and women. Ages. Birthdays. Affiliations.
One page had Cain's name on it.
And now, hers.
Her throat tightened.
"They have records," Cain said. "They've had people watching you since the night you followed me."
"Why are you showing me this?"
"Because if something happens to me, you'll know what you're up against."
"Don't talk like that," she snapped.
"I need you to be prepared."
Her hands curled into fists. "Why are you always trying to save me?"
He paused.
His eyes met hers. Something raw and rare flickered there.
"Because no one ever tried to save me."
🛑 Back at Campus – 3:45 p.m.
They slipped into the dorm through the back, avoiding security.
The hallways were quiet. Almost too quiet.
Cain stopped outside their door.
Then he whispered, "Wait."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small mirror. He slid it under the door crack.
Zara's heart raced.
After a second, Cain cursed and stood up.
"What is it?"
He didn't answer.
He kicked the door open in one smooth, powerful motion.
Inside, the room was torn apart.
Not ransacked—searched.
Someone had gone through Zara's drawers again. Cain's desk was emptied onto the floor.
But it wasn't the mess that froze her blood.
It was the open laptop on her bed.
Someone had been inside her account.
Her private journals were open.
Cain moved fast—snatching the laptop, cutting the power, pulling the hard drive.
"They're in our network," he muttered. "They're watching everything."
Zara sat down on the floor.
Her breathing was shallow.
Her words came out like a whisper. "I feel like I'm losing myself."
Cain looked at her.
Then knelt beside her.
"You're not," he said.
She looked up.
His hand reached out—hesitant, careful—and touched hers.
The first time he'd initiated contact.
"You're still you," he said quietly. "They haven't taken that yet."
Zara's eyes burned.
Then, before she could stop herself, she asked:
"Why do you care so much?"
Cain paused. Then, with a kind of worn-out softness, said:
"Because I don't want to watch you break the way I did."
🕯️ That Night – The Rooftop
They sat on the dorm rooftop.
It was cold.
Cain had brought a blanket and two cans of soda like it was some kind of normal evening.
Zara huddled beside him, grateful for the closeness.
They didn't speak for a while.
Then she broke the silence.
"What happens now?"
Cain sipped from the can. "Now we find out who's behind the escalation."
"I thought you knew."
"I know some of them. But someone's pulling new strings. I've never seen them go after an outsider like this."
"You think they're after me… to get to you?"
"I think someone doesn't want you near me."
Zara looked down. "Mission accomplished, then."
Cain turned to her.
"I don't want that."
She blinked.
"You don't?"
He gave a lopsided smile.
"Zara… you drive me insane."
"Wow. Thanks."
He laughed quietly.
"I mean it. You ask too many questions. You touch my stuff. You follow me. You refuse to be scared of me."
"And yet...?"
His gaze softened.
"And yet, you're the only person I feel like I can breathe around."
Zara's heart did something stupid in her chest.
She reached out—slowly—and touched his hand.
This time, he didn't flinch.
💣 Chapter Climax
The moment was quiet.
Too quiet.
Then Zara's phone buzzed.
A new message.
"Nice chat. Mind if we join?"
Cain snatched the phone.
He stood, eyes scanning the rooftops, the windows, the campus below.
"Get down," he ordered.
Zara hit the floor just before something exploded in the sky behind them—like a firecracker. A warning.
Cain pulled her up. "They're not bluffing anymore."
"They know where we are?"
"They're already here."
🧨 Chapter End Twist
Cain pulled out his phone.
Dialed a number Zara didn't recognize.
His voice was urgent.
"They made contact. She's marked. I need a new location tonight."
A pause.
Then he looked at Zara.
"They want to meet you."
Zara's heart dropped. "What?"
Cain's voice was grim.
"They think you're the one I've been protecting all along. That you're important."
"I'm not."
"You are now."