The sun crept through the blinds like a slow leak of light.
Noah lay awake before it touched him, eyes fixed on the faint shimmer at the edge of Liam's empty bed.
He hadn't really slept. The hum had followed him into the hours where sleep should have swallowed everything. Even now, when he held his breath, he could almost feel it vibrating behind the silence.
He sat up, rubbed his face, and stared at the desk.
The half-moon mark from the spilled liquid glistened as if someone had polished it overnight.
He reached out and touched it again; the wood was still faintly warm. The sensation crawled across his fingertips, like static that refused to fade.
He drew his hand back and whispered to himself, It's just in your head.
But the moment he said it, the hum answered a faint,metallic echo that seemed to come from no where and everywhere at once.
Noah chose to ignore everything to go to school.
By ten o'clock the school hallway was full of voices. News travelled fast in a college dorm.
Another police car had been seen near the field.
The local paper had printed Emily's photo again.
Someone whispered that the investigation had "new leads."
Noah shoved his earbuds in and left for class, but the whispers followed him all the way down the hall.
Liam didn't show up to any of his lectures that day.
Classes were a blur of voices and whiteboards.
Every empty seat reminded him of Liam.
Every question from a professor "Are you alright, Mr. Carter?"made him flinch.
He didn't appear at the cafeteria either.
By evening, the baseball team's group chat lit up with messages:
RYAN: anyone seen liam today?
ALEX: nah, coach is pissed. said he's benched until he shows.
MARCUS: weird, man. he's never missed a practice.
Noah stared at the messages until the screen blurred. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, wanting to type something anything but he couldn't.
What would he even say?
He slipped the phone back into his pocket and walked out of the dorm.
The campus felt wrong that night. The field lights were off, but the bleachers glowed faintly under the sky, a ghost of silver against the grass.
He sat on the lowest bench, the same spot Emily used to sit during practice. For a while there was only the wind and the soft rattle of the flag rope on the pole.
Suddenly,he remembered Emily laughing the first time they'd all met there the easy brightness of her voice.
Liam had been the center of everything that day,the perfect throw, the perfect smile. Emily had leaned toward Noah and said, He doesn't even realize how loud the world gets around him.
Now the world was quiet, but it didn't feel peaceful.
Then, from somewhere near the dugout, a thin metallic note floated through the air.
A hum.
It was faint, distant, but unmistakable.
Noah froze.
He listened harder. The sound faded, came back, then stopped completely.
When he finally worked up the nerve to move, he saw a shape slipping through the far gate,a tall figure, shoulders hunched, moving fast toward the parking lot.
Even from that distance, Noah knew it was Liam.
He wanted to call out, but the word stuck in his throat.
Instead, he followed.
Liam's car was parked crooked under the streetlight.
He threw something into the trunk, slammed it shut, and wiped his hands on his jeans. The motion was rough, frantic.
Noah stayed half-hidden behind a tree until Liam drove off. Only then did he let out a breath he did not know he was holding.
The night swallowed the sound of the engine, but the hum remained in Noah's head, louder now, as if it had attached itself to him.
When Noah finally returned to the dorm, Ryan was waiting by the stairwell.
He was still in his baseball jacket, glove hanging from one hand.
"Hey," Ryan said quietly. "You seen Liam? Coach can't reach him."
Noah hesitated. "Not since yesterday."
Ryan nodded slowly. "He's acting off. Has been for weeks. I thought maybe you'd know what's going on."
Noah met his eyes. "Why would you think I'd know?"
"Because you live with him." Ryan's tone stayed calm, but his stare didn't waver. "And because whatever's wrong with him…it started after Emily."
Noah's stomach tightened.
Ryan waited a beat, then sighed and stepped back. "If he calls, tell him the coach wants him in the office tomorrow. No excuses."
"I'll tell him," Noah said, even though he knew he wouldn't.
Ryan half-smiled, a tired expression that didn't reach his eyes. "You look worse than he does, man. Get some sleep."
When Noah didn't answer, Ryan added softly, "Emily used to sit outside the cage during warm-ups. Said the sound of the bats made her calm. Funny, huh? The sound that drives everyone else crazy helped her breathe."
He left before Noah could reply.
That night the room felt smaller.
He kept the lights off and lay staring at the ceiling. The mark on the desk caught the glow of the streetlamp through the blinds. Every few minutes it seemed to shimmer again, pulsing faintly like before.
He tried covering his ears, but the hum found a way in soft, steady, impossible to place.
And this time, he wasn't sure it was in his head.
Somewhere on the other side of campus, Liam was driving toward whatever secret he'd been running from.
Somewhere else, Ryan was making a quiet decision that would change all of them.
But Noah didn't know any of that yet.
All he knew was that the sound wasn't stopping.
It was day again, the first light touched the window, Noah finally gave up on sleep.
The hum had faded into a dull memory, but the silence it left felt heavier than noise.
He packed his books mechanically, but when he reached for his phone, he paused.
Ryan had texted: Coach still wants Liam. If you hear anything, call me.
Noah stared at the message until the screen dimmed.
He wanted to tell someone everything.
He wanted to tell no one at all.
In the end, he did neither.
He just sat on the edge of his bed, listening to the faint buzz of the ceiling light and wondering if that was all the hum had ever been just electricity and fear.
But when he turned to leave, the mark on the desk caught the morning light again, glowing for the briefest second before fading back into wood.
He felt his heartbeat quicken.
And under it, faint but steady, he could still hear it.