Tracy – Episode 7
I thought I could forget him.
That if I stayed hidden long enough, turned off my phone, stayed in soft clothes and quiet houses, he'd fade from my mind like a half-remembered dream.
But Zane wasn't a dream.
He was a storm that lingered—loud even in silence, violent even in memory.
I stared at my phone for the tenth time that morning. Still off. Still safe. Still tempted to turn it back on.
April saw me from across the kitchen. "Girl, don't even think about it."
I smirked. "I wasn't—"
"You were," she said. "Don't lie to me with those criminally pretty eyes."
I sighed and tucked the phone deeper into my bag.
We decided to get out again. Something about the walls felt too close, like they were whispering secrets I didn't want to hear.
April insisted we go to the market. People, noise, color—it was her idea of therapy. I just needed to breathe.
We were halfway through a row of used book stands when it happened.
I felt it.
Not saw. Not heard.
Felt.
Someone watching me.
I turned instinctively. No one was there.
April noticed. "You okay?"
"Yeah," I said too quickly. "Just thought I saw someone."
We kept walking, but the feeling didn't leave. Like I had a spotlight on my back and didn't know who was holding the switch.
That night, I locked every door. Double-checked the windows.
April laughed. "You do know you're not in a spy movie, right?"
I didn't answer. I couldn't.
Because I wasn't sure if I wasn't.
---
Zane was still in the city.
Wounded. Frustrated. But never still.
He walked through the old underground tunnel near the train station, his hood pulled low.
Wes met him at the far end, a manila folder in hand.
"She's being watched," Wes said. "Not just by you."
Zane's eyes narrowed. "By who?"
"Tier 3 operatives. Which means HQ thinks she's more important than we do."
Zane opened the folder. Inside was a still image from a street camera. Tracy. Standing beside April. Laughing.
Then a second image.
A man in a black coat behind her.
Zane's hands clenched.
"They've marked her," Wes said. "They don't mark people they plan to question. They mark targets."
Zane's jaw locked. "Then I'm out of time."
No your not' you just need to gain her trust..
---
Back at April's, I sat curled on the couch. The lights were low. The air was thick.
I tried reading, but the words blurred.
April walked in wearing her glasses, holding two bowls of popcorn.
"You're jumpy," she said. "Did you ever think maybe you need to face him?"
I looked at her. "Face him?"
She sat beside me. "You clearly still think about him. You clearly don't feel safe. And you clearly kissed him like you were in a Nicholas Sparks movie."
I laughed, despite myself.
April leaned in. "So what's the worst that could happen if you talk to him?"
"He could lie again. Or worse, tell me the truth."
She went quiet. "Maybe. But what if he's the only one who can protect you?"
I hated that the thought had already crossed my mind.
I hated more that it gave me comfort.
---
Zane stood across the street.
Watching the light in April's bedroom flicker off.
He held his phone, thumb hovering.
Then he slid it back into his jacket and turned away.
"Soon," he whispered to himself.
"Soon."