Perfect. Here's Chapter 22, returning t
Elena Rivers
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She didn't remember falling asleep. Only waking up.
Her head throbbed—too many hours without food, water, or peace. The apartment was stifling. A fever dream of silence and shadows.
The lily was still on her pillow.
Unwilted.
Like it had bloomed in her sleep.
Elena stood slowly, fingers brushing across the petals, hating how beautiful it was. How gentle. There was something cruel in it—a softness meant to unmake her.
She wasn't afraid of the flower.
She was afraid of what it meant.
She opened her laptop for the first time in days. Emails blinked at her—missed deadlines, questions from professors, vague concern. But nothing personal. No one asking, Are you okay?
She wasn't.
But even she didn't know how deep it went anymore.
She opened a new tab. Typed "stalking laws" and "restraining order" and "what to do when you're being watched."
Then paused.
Her hands trembled.
Because she couldn't explain it. Not the notes. Not the messages. Not the sense that she felt him in every room before she entered it. There was no proof.
Just the disintegration of her own mind.
And even worse—buried beneath the fear—was a flicker of longing.
Because he saw her when no one else did.
Noticed her when she thought she was invisible.
She hated that she missed the messages.
That she kept checking her phone.
That a part of her, even now, wanted him to write again.
"Talk to me," she whispered aloud. "What do you want from me?"
No answer.
Just her reflection on the black laptop screen.
And the feeling that she was already speaking to him—
Because she knew, without knowing how…
He was listening.
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