LOGINBelleās POVMorning didnāt feel like morning.It felt like something pretending to be it.The light came in the same way it always didāsoft through the curtains, stretching across the floor, touching the edge of my desk like nothing had changed.But everything had.I stood in the middle of my room longer than I should have, staring at the space near the window.At nothing.At where he had been.My chest tightened slightly.āLukeā¦ā I whispered.The name still didnāt feel wrong.That was the problem.It feltāRight.Too right.And that alone made everything else feel unstable.Because Luke was supposed to be gone.Not missing.Not hidden.Gone.That was what I had believed for three years.That was what I had remembered.And nowāNow I didnāt know if that memory was mine.Or something given to me.I grabbed my bag.My movements slower than usual.Heavier.Like I was carrying something invisible with me.Maybe I was.The diary stayed hidden between my books.I didnāt hesitate to take it.
Belleās POVThe room didnāt go back to normal.That was the first thing I noticed.Not the silence.Not the cold.Not even the fact that I was still staring at a window that had just swallowed someone I thought was dead.NoāIt was the absence of normal.Like something had been disturbed too deeply to settle again.I sat on the edge of the bed, my hands resting against the sheets, fingers slightly curled like I was holding onto something invisible.Maybe I was.Maybe I had been this whole time.My eyes drifted slowly to the window again.Closed now.Still.Nothing there.No sign he had ever been.No sound.No movement.No proof.ExceptāMy chest tightened.I could still hear his voice.Clear.Close.You still shiver.My arms pulled in slightly again, instinctively.That small, automatic reaction made my stomach twist.Because he had known that.Not guessed.Not assumed.Known.āLukeā¦ā I whispered, the name softer this time.He hadnāt denied it.He hadnāt corrected me.And thatāThat m
Belleās POV---The message was still on my screen.> Itās still here.I didnāt move.Didnāt breathe properly.Didnāt think.Because thinking meant choosing what was realāAnd I wasnāt ready for that.The room had gone too quiet.Not empty.Quiet.Like something inside it had decided to listen.The air felt⦠occupied.Not moving.Not shifting.JustāThere.Behind me.My fingers tightened around my phone until it almost slipped.Donāt turn.The thought came suddenly.Sharp.Instinctive.Like something in me already understoodāTurning would change everything.But not turning didnāt make it go away.It made it worse.Because nowāI could feel it.Closer than before.Not just watching.Present.Aware.Waiting for me to acknowledge it.My throat tightened.āYou donāt get to just stand there,ā I whispered, my voice barely holding. āYou donāt get toāāāYou still shiver.āThe voice cut through me.Soft.Low.Familiar.My entire body locked.Not because it was strange.But because it wasnāt.
Belleās POVThe note didnāt move.I donāt know why I expected it to.Maybe because everything else had stopped making sense.Maybe because a part of me still believed this would unravel if I looked at it long enoughālike the words would shift, rearrange, turn into something harmless.They didnāt.Stop digging.Two words. Simple. Clear.Deliberate.I read them again.And again.Each time, they felt heavier. Not louder. Not sharper. Just⦠heavier. Like they were settling deeper into the room. Into me.My fingers tightened around the edge of the paper.āDigging into what?ā I whispered.The question didnāt sound like mine.It sounded small. Uncertain.Like I already knew the answer and didnāt want to say it out loud.My eyes moved slowly to the diary.It hadnāt changed.Not at first glance.Still open. Still quiet. Still pretending to be nothing more than ink and paper.But that wasnāt true anymore.It hadnāt been true for a while.I placed the note down carefully. Not because I was calmā
Belleās POV:Something followed me home.I donāt know when it started.Thatās the problem.If I could trace itāpin it down to a moment, a sound, a stepāI could convince myself it was real.Or convince myself it wasnāt.But it didnāt begin like that.It didnāt begin at all.It just⦠was.Like it had always been there, and I was the one who arrived late to notice it.I didnāt remember leaving the cemetery.Not clearly.There were piecesāfragments that refused to settle into something whole.The sound of gravel under my shoes.The cold that didnāt feel like weather.The way the air pressed too close, like it was watching me instead of surrounding me.And thenāNothing.Just the next thing.My room.My door closing.My back against it.My breath too loud in the quiet.I stared at my hands for a long time.They didnāt look different.No shaking. No blood. No sign that anything had happened at all.But something had.I knew it.Not in a way I could explain.Not in a way I could prove.Just
Masonās POV Night didnāt fall gently. It never did. It crept in like something unwelcomeāslow, deliberate, swallowing the last traces of daylight until the world felt quieter than it should. Mason stood by the window, unmoving. The city stretched beneath him in scattered lights and distant noise, but up here It didnāt reach. Nothing did. That was the point. His fingers rested lightly against the glass, not pressing, not tense. Just⦠there. Still. Controlled. Always controlled. But his thoughts They werenāt. She went back. The words hadnāt been spoken out loud. They didnāt need to be. They lingered anyway, heavy in the silence of the room. Because it wasnāt a question. It wasnāt a guess. It was fact. Belle had gone back to the one place she was never supposed to return to. And somehow That changed everything. Masonās jaw tightened slightly. Not enough for anyone to notice. But enough. Because that placeā It wasnāt just a cemete







