The next day passed quietly, almost too quietly.
I went about my usual routine at home, helping Mom with her errands, sketching half-heartedly in my notebook, but the memory of Tristan's late night phone call clung to me like a second skin.
"Because I can't stop thinking about you."
His words echoed every time the house fell silent.
I told myself that I shouldn't believe it, that they were nothing more than a fleeting slip, but a traitorous part of me wanted to hold onto them, to turn them over and over until they became something solid.
In the afternoon, I stepped outside to clear my head, walking down the familiar streets near our neighbourhood.
The drizzle from last night's rain had left the pavement damp, the air smelling faintly earthy.
That's when I noticed a black car parked across from our house. Its windows were tinted, and the engine was idling. It looked too new and too sleek for this side of town.
I slowed my steps, and my heart couldn't help ticking faster. The driver didn't move, didn't even look my way, but something about his stillness made my skin prickle.
Shaking off the feelings, I turned to the corner towards the nearest convenience store. Yet even there, I couldn't shake the feeling of a pair of eyes on me.
When I returned home twenty minutes later, the car was long gone. But the unease had already rooted deep inside me.
Mom glanced up from her papers when I stepped in. "Is everything all right, Ellie? You look pale."
I forced a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine, Mom. I'm just tired a bit. I'll go upstairs to change."
But upstairs, I paced restlessly. I couldn't tell her what I've been seeing, as it sounded ridiculous. Still, a knot of dread twisted tighter within me with every passing second.
Finally, I caved in. I pulled out my phone, and I dialled the number I swore I wouldn't.
Tristan picked up my call on the second ring. "Ellie?"
"I..." My voice faltered, betraying the tremor in me. "I think someone is watching me."
There was a long silence. Then I heard his questioning voice, "Where are you right now?"
"At home," I whispered. "Why...?"
"Lock the doors, don't leave, and don't go anywhere. Stay at where you are. I'm coming to you," he said urgently.
Before I could respond, the line went dead.
I stared at my phone with my pulse racing, the weight of his words sinking into my conscious mind.
"I'm coming to you", he said.