The next day at school passed like a blur.
Everyone laughed, gossiped, and lived as if the world was perfectly normal but for me, everything felt strangely hollow.
I wasn't heartbroken exactly… just aware.
Aware of how naïve I'd been, how much of my so-called "love" had been built on a promise made before I was even born.
When the last bell rang, I didn't feel like going home yet. The thought of the silent mansion waiting for me only deepened the ache in my chest.
So instead, I walked toward the park near school a small, peaceful place where the world still seemed soft and ordinary.
The wind was gentle, carrying the faint laughter of children playing by the swings. The golden hour light washed over everything the benches, the trees, even the cracks in the pavement.
I sat down under the old oak tree, took out my sketchbook, and began to draw.
Sketching had always been my way of breathing the only time my thoughts slowed down. Lines became shapes. Shapes became stories. I was drawing the scene nearby. Not knowing how much time had passed.
My phone buzzed.
Unknown Number: You should go home now. It's getting dark.
A strange chill crept up my spine. I glanced around the park — families packing up, children leaving, sky turning a soft violet.
Who would send me that?
My first instinct was to look for Austin, but no it couldn't be him. No one else knew I was here.
The park suddenly felt less peaceful and more… watchful.
I shut my sketchbook, slung my bag over my shoulder, and hurried toward the exit.
At the gate, I spotted Uncle Denny, our family's driver, waiting beside the car. Relief flooded me.
"Miss Flora," he greeted, opening the door.
I smiled faintly. "Let's go home, Uncle."
The car rolled out of the parking lot, and I tried to dismiss the uneasy feeling lingering in my chest. But halfway down the street, my phone buzzed again.
Unknown Number: Don't take Riverway Road. There's been an accident ahead.
I frowned.
Riverway Road was the shortest route to our estate. The alternative path was longer, winding through different roads which are packed with traffic most of the time.
I didn't say anything — just slipped the phone back into my bag. Maybe it was a prank. Maybe someone from school.
The moment we turned the corner, my breath hitched.
Flashing lights, police tape, and a damaged car blocked the middle of the road. Officers were redirecting traffic.
Uncle Denny slowed down. "Looks bad, Miss."
My hands went cold.
The message had been right.
"Let's go around," I murmured, avoiding his curious glance.
The rest of the drive was silent — the kind of silence that grows thick with thoughts you can't explain.
---
By the time we reached the mansion, the sky had already deepened into night. The soft glow of the garden lamps stretched long shadows over the driveway.
The house was quiet my parents and sister are still abroad, the staff retiring early. I felt the weight of emptiness the moment I stepped inside.
After changing, I stood by my window, watching the vast garden swaying under moonlight. Everything looked normal… yet the silence pressed heavy on my ears.
To distract myself, I picked up my sketchbook again.
I drew a back of silhouette his face unknown.
I ran my pencil over the figure, trying to erase it, but the more I tried, the darker the lines seemed to grow. Frustrated, I flipped to a new page and started sketching something else anything else.
But when I looked again… the faint outline of the same figure appeared behind the new drawing.
I blinked, my heart thudding. For a split second, I swore it wasn't just a drawing it was me sitting on that same bench, the shadow of that man standing behind.
Watching.
I dropped the pencil.
"No, Flora," I muttered, pressing a hand to my chest. "You're just tired."
I went to the window for air, but something made me freeze mid-step.
In the garden below, between the trimmed hedges and fountain, a dark shape flickered a shadow of a human.
I leaned closer, but when I blinked, it was gone. I convinced myself how can someone enter mension which is tightly secured.
My reflection in the glass stared back pale, wide-eyed, frightened.
And behind that reflection, for just a second, I thought I saw another shadow move.
I spun around....Nothing.
The silence rang louder than ever.
---
It was well past midnight when my phone buzzed again.
I almost didn't want to look — part of me terrified of what I might see.
But curiosity always wins.
A new message. No text, just an image.
My throat went dry.
It was a photo of Riverway Road the same place where we'd seen the accident earlier. The picture showed it now sealed off completely, the road broken and under repair, construction lights illuminating the darkness.
The caption beneath it sent another chill through me: "Don't take that road"
I dropped the phone onto my bed, my fingers trembling.
Who was sending these?
And… how did they know?
Fear crawled under my skin, but there was something else, too. I don't understand what
Whoever it was, they weren't trying to hurt me. Or were warning me. I have no idea.
A quite voice in my mind is telling me they might be protecting me.
Or maybe that's what they wanted me to believe.
I lay awake, staring at the ceiling. Every creak of the mansion felt alive. Every flicker of light made my heart race.
I turned the phone face-down, but its glow still leaked through the darkness.
Outside, the garden lights blinked once then steadied again.
And somewhere beyond the iron gates, in the depth of shadows, someone stood still watching the window of the girl who couldn't sleep.