Aria stood frozen under the lamplight, Kael's words sinking like stones into the pit of her stomach.
Little Star.
Her father's voice echoed inside her head, overlapping with Kael's calm, steady tone until she couldn't tell them apart.
"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "You couldn't know that. You—" Her voice broke. "You weren't there."
Kael stepped closer, his presence suffocating yet magnetic. Shadows clung to him like a second skin.
"I was," he said quietly, with a certainty that chilled her. "I was there before everything fell apart. I was there… when you forgot."
Her throat tightened. "What are you talking about? Forgot what?"
Kael's gaze softened, almost sorrowful, though the intensity behind it never wavered. "You'll remember, Aria. You're not supposed to fight it."
Aria's chest burned with conflicting emotions. Fear clawed at her lungs, but underneath it, something else pulsed — a strange pull, like part of her wanted to believe him. Wanted to step closer instead of running.
She staggered back instead, desperate to break free of his grip on her mind. "Stay away from me."
Kael didn't follow. He only tilted his head, the ghost of a smile curving his lips.
"You can run all you want. But the truth doesn't run, Aria. It waits."
---
She didn't remember how she got home, only that her hands shook violently as she slammed the lock behind her and pressed her back against the door. Her chest rose and fell in frantic bursts.
For the first time, she considered she wasn't just in danger. She was unraveling.
Who was he? How did he know my father's name for me? What did he mean — when I forgot?
Her feet dragged heavily as she climbed the stairs to her room. She tossed her bag onto the floor, leaned against her bedpost, and buried her face in her hands.
Just breathe. Just sleep. Just forget him.
She pulled back her blanket, ready to collapse — but stopped cold.
There, lying neatly on her pillow, was a folded slip of paper.
Her blood turned to ice. She hadn't seen it when she left that morning. The window was shut. The door had been locked.
With trembling hands, she unfolded it.
The handwriting was sharp, deliberate.
> "You'll remember soon. Don't fight it."
The note slipped from her fingers.
Her pulse thundered in her ears as one realization cut through her fear like a blade:
He had been inside her room.