Romans de POLLY IRIS

I didn’t open the drawer right away.That was new.That alone should have meant something.Because lately, I hadn’t been hesitating.I’d been going straight to it—like it was part of a routine I never agreed to but somehow kept following anyway.But tonight—I stopped.I dropped my bag near the door and just stood there for a second.Not moving.Not thinking clearly either.Just… there.The room felt the same.Nothing had changed.The bed was still made.The curtains still slightly open.The same quiet, controlled calm that never quite felt like mine.And yet—something felt different.Not in the room.In me.“She knows.”The words came out before I could stop them.Soft.Barely above a whisper.But loud enough to feel real.I walked further into the room slowly.Like I wasn’t sure where I was going.Like I needed to fill the space with movement before I could sit still.“She definitely knows something.”Not everything.It didn’t feel like everything.If Violet knew everything—she wo

The next morning didn’t feel different.That was the first thing I noticed.Nothing obvious had changed.Same building. Same people. Same quiet hum of work that made everything feel structured and predictable.But something underneath it—something I couldn’t name—felt… off.Not wrong.Just slightly out of place.Like a chair moved half an inch to the left.Most people wouldn’t notice.I did.“…great,” I muttered under my breath as I walked in.“You’re talking to yourself again.”I didn’t even look at Grey.“I’ve upgraded. It’s now a full-time coping mechanism.”“That’s concerning.”“That’s survival.”I dropped into my chair, setting my bag down a little harder than necessary.The screen flickered on.Bright.Too bright.I squinted slightly.“…why is everything so loud today?”“It isn’t.”“It feels like it is.”“That’s you.”“Helpful.”“I try.”“You don’t.”“I don’t.”I stared at the screen longer than I should have.Not reading.Not typing.Just… staring.Because my brain wasn’t her

I didn’t open the manuscript right away.I told myself I would wait.Eat first.Rest.Think.Do anything normal before going back into… that.That being the quiet, unsettling thing Katherine had left behind.But normal didn’t last long.It never did anymore.I sat on the edge of the bed for a while, staring at nothing in particular.Then my eyes drifted.Of course they did.To the drawer.“…this is becoming a problem,” I muttered.Because it was.Not the manuscript itself.Me.The way I kept going back to it.Like it had answers.Like it had something I needed.I exhaled.Then stood.Opened the drawer.Picked it up.And sat back down.No ceremony this time.No hesitation.Just… acceptance.I flipped to the next page.Katherine’s Manuscript — Chapter 10I have started noticing things I didn’t notice before.Not because they weren’t there.Because I didn’t want to see them.There is a difference. Hailey“…that’s not comforting,” I whispered.Because that line—that line felt like it ap

When Damien told me I could leave early—I didn’t believe him.Not immediately.Not even a little.“You can go.”I blinked.“…what?”“You’ve been here all day.”“That’s… normal.”“You’re tired.”“I’m fine.”“You’re not.”That tone.That same quiet certainty.Like he wasn’t asking.Like he wasn’t guessing.Like he already knew.I crossed my arms slightly.“I didn’t ask to leave.”“I know.”“Then why are you telling me to?”“Because I’m allowing it.”There it was.That word.Again.Allowing.I tilted my head slightly.“…that doesn’t sound like a choice.”“It is.”“It doesn’t feel like one.”“That doesn’t change what it is.”I almost laughed.Not because it was funny.Because it was frustrating.“Everything here sounds like that.”“Like what?”“Like I’m supposed to accept it without questioning it.”“You question everything.”“Because nothing makes sense.”“It does.”“To you.”“Yes.”We stood there for a second.Neither of us moving.Neither of us backing down.Then—“Where would you go?

The thing about Grey—wasn’t that he talked too much.It was that he didn’t talk enough.Most people fill silence.They soften it.Stretch it into something comfortable so it doesn’t feel like it’s pressing in on you.Grey didn’t do that.He let silence sit.Heavy.Uninterrupted.And somehow—that made everything sharper.I noticed it properly that afternoon.Not because something dramatic happened.Because nothing did.And that was the problem.“You shouldn’t ignore her.”I didn’t look up.“I’m not ignoring her.”“You are.”“I answered her.”“You didn’t engage.”“That’s intentional.”“I know.”I sighed, finally turning toward him.“…and that’s a problem?”“Yes.”“Why?”He didn’t answer immediately.Of course he didn’t.He never rushed answers.He just… let them arrive when he decided they should.“Because she doesn’t like it.”“That sounds like a ‘her’ problem.”“It becomes a ‘you’ problem.”I leaned back slightly.“…that sounds threatening.”“It’s not.”“It feels like it is.”“It’s

The next morning felt… normal.Which was exactly why it wasn’t.I noticed it the moment I stepped into the building.Nothing had changed.Same people.Same movement.Same quiet rhythm of conversations and footsteps.But something underneath it—Something subtle—felt different.Like I had walked into the same place, but the rules had shifted slightly when I wasn’t looking.“…great,” I muttered under my breath.“You’ve started talking to yourself more.”I didn’t even look at him.“Grey, if I stop, it means I’ve lost it completely.”“That’s reassuring.”“It’s realistic.”I dropped into my chair, setting my bag down and turning on the computer.For a few seconds, I just stared at the screen.Not reading.Not working.Just… staring.Because my mind wasn’t here yet.It was still back in my room.Still on the bed.Still holding that manuscript.Still hearing those lines.You’re not being watched. You’re being taken care of.I pressed my lips together.“…no,” I whispered.Because that line—