All Chapters of Online at Midnight. Missing by Morning: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Chapter TwoThe first time I saw the video, I thought it was a joke.I had been scrolling through my phone while half-asleep, sipping lukewarm coffee from the counter in my kitchen. The timestamp flashed 12:03 a.m., and the title in bold letters caught my eye: Live Now: Lila Monroe.At first, I smirked. Typical Lila. Midnight livestreams, cryptic posts, and dramatic texts were her thing. She thrived on attention. That’s why I called her my best friend, even though sometimes I hated how easily she drew the spotlight away from everyone else.But the smile died when I hit play.It was wrong.Lila was pale, almost ghostly in the glow of her phone screen. Her hair hung in a sloppy ponytail, strands falling into her eyes. She wasn’t laughing, wasn’t joking, wasn’t her usual fearless self. She whispered, her voice shaking, “I just feel like… nobody notices.”I froze. My fingers trembled as the chat scrolled faster than I could read.CALL 911DON’T GO THERELILA PLEASEAnd then… the feed went

Chapter FourThe first time I saw Lila that night, I didn’t think much of it.I was walking home from the library, earbuds in, ignoring the chill in the October air. The streetlights cast long shadows across the cracked pavement, flickering as if they had secrets of their own. I had my hoodie zipped up, hands buried in pockets, and my backpack slung lazily over one shoulder.That’s when I saw her—or at least someone who looked like her.She was standing on the corner near the old park, the one with the swings that squeaked even when no one touched them. Streetlights glinted off her phone, held in her hands like a lifeline. She glanced around nervously, almost jumping every time a car passed.I paused. Something about her stance, the way she shifted weight from one foot to another, didn’t feel like Lila. She wasn’t texting her usual rapid-fire jokes or filming anything for her followers. She was… quiet. Terrified, even.I debated whether to say something. Part of me wanted to step clos

Chapter SixAmir hadn’t slept.The glow from his laptop was the only light in his bedroom, throwing sharp shadows across the walls as lines of code scrolled endlessly down the screen. His phone lay face-down beside the keyboard, buzzing every few minutes with messages he refused to answer.Jade had called six times.He knew he should pick up. He knew she was spiraling just as much as he was. But Amir needed to be sure—absolutely sure—before he said anything out loud.Because if he was right, everything changed.He leaned closer to the screen, heart pounding as he replayed the clip for the fourth time. It was from Lila’s final livestream—the one everyone had already watched, dissected, slowed down frame by frame. The one that had gone viral for all the wrong reasons.Except Amir wasn’t watching Lila.He was watching the reflection behind her.At exactly 12:47 a.m., when Lila leaned forward to read a comment, the ring light caught something in the dark window behind her. A blur. A movem

Chapter EightLilaThe first thing I learned about disappearing is this:You don’t vanish all at once.You fade—piece by piece—while everyone is still looking at you.I knew something was wrong two weeks before the livestream.It started small. A message that wasn’t creepy enough to block. A comment that knew too much. Someone quoting things I’d only said out loud in my room, pacing, talking to myself like the walls weren’t listening.You hide your fear well, the message said.I laughed it off. Screen-shotted it. Sent it to Jade with a joke.But that night, when I turned off my ring light, I saw the reflection in the window.Someone standing behind me.I spun around.Nothing.That was when I realized the scariest part wasn’t being watched.It was being watched by someone who knew me.By the time I figured out who, it was already too late.The warehouse floor is freezing against my bare arms. My wrists ache where the rope cuts into them, tight enough to remind me not to move, not to ho

Chapter TenLilaThe first night back home, I sleep with the lights on.No ring light. No phone propped up on my desk. No audience waiting for me to speak.Just silence.It feels unfamiliar—like stepping into a room that used to be crowded and realizing it’s finally empty. I lie awake listening to the soft hum of the house, the normal sounds I used to drown out with notifications and music and voices that weren’t really there.When morning comes, sunlight spills across my bed like it’s apologizing for being late.I sit up slowly, testing my body. Sore. Bruised. Real.Alive.Downstairs, I hear Jade laughing at something Amir says, and the sound anchors me. Proof that the world didn’t end while I was gone. Proof that some things stayed.I pull on a hoodie and head down.They look up at the same time.Jade crosses the room in three steps and hugs me like she’s afraid I’ll evaporate. Amir smiles—small, tired, relieved.“You slept?” he asks.“A little,” I say. “Enough.”That’s true in more