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Letting myself be consumed by this girl yet again, I look through every photo, every video, every comment. Opening her DMs, I almost send one, but I back out once more, tossing the phone onto the lounge beside me. I let out a low chuckle. Oh, how satisfying it will be to play this game.

In the quiet darkness of my apartment, the thrill is mine alone. Bryn has returned to my orbit, unaware that I’m already clutching her in my claws. That knowledge tastes sweeter than any spotlight, or any applause from my fans.

When her curiosity finally drags her toward me, I’ll be ready.

I’m always ready for her.

15

ASH

Five Years Ago

The yelling from downstairs rattles the walls. My brother’s voice is deafening as it clashes with someone else’s. I’ve heard enough of it tonight. Enough of everything. I can’t breathe in this house anymore. Reaching for my hoodie, I pull it over my head and slip through my bedroom window. The night swallows me, and I melt into the shadows, my favourite place to be. The only sound I can hear, other than the buzz of streetlights, is the padding of my footsteps on the pavement as I make my way through familiar streets. Each step I take is careful.

The abandoned house sits at the end of the block, dark and lifeless. Her family left only a week ago, so no one’s moved in since. It stands as tall and pristine as it did before, but the windows stare like empty eyes onto the street, emitting nothing but darkness, unlike the soft glow that used to come from it. The vibrant gardens that wrap around the front of the house are starting to wither.

I slip through a side gate that’s been left slightly ajar, its hinges whining softly under my careful push. I’ve traced this house already, so I easily slink around the back, avoiding the areas with automatic lights, and get to the window near the back sliding door. Shrugging my backpack off my shoulder, I glance around before curling my fingers around the frame, but this time it doesn’t budge.

I pull out my t-shirt and wrap it around my knuckles. Plunging my fist into the window, it breaks easily and, somehow, quietly enough. I pause and strain my ears, listening out for someone who might have heard, but other than the neighbour’s TV, I don’t hear anything. A dog in the distance lets out a loud, startled bark, which his owner quickly yells at him for, and then everything dies down once more. With access now to the inside latch, I unlock the window before sliding it up and slipping inside, careful not to land on any of the broken glass.

It’s eerily silent in here, and a faint scent of baked goods still lingers. Or maybe I’m just imagining that. I make my way up the stairs, tiptoeing until I reach Bryn’s room. It’s bare now, but I look around the room anyway, remembering the posters she had on the wall, the record player on her desk, and the vine plant that twisted down her bookshelves. I mean, I never actually stepped foot in here, but I studied its details from afar.

Now, it’s empty. There is no furniture, no lights, no warmth, just my shadow stretching across the walls. I sink onto the floor, my back against the corner where her bed used to be, and let the silence wrap around me. It’s much nicer than the loud heavy metal music and shouting that I’d be hearing at home.

I pull my knees up, resting my chin on them, and let the night creep in through the open window. A small, bitter smile tugs at my lips. I don’t know how long I’ll stay tonight, but I don’t care. I want to feel close to her, and I don’t want to be anywhere near my house right now. Tracing my fingers along the floorboards she once paced, I imagine her here, going about her routine.

Lying down on my back, I stretch out, and my fingers brush something. I turn my head to find a thin chain glinting faintly under the moonlight. I pick it up carefully, inspecting it. It’s a bracelet, thin and delicate, with a tiny charm shaped like a cherry, matching the earrings she was wearing the day we met. I turn it over slowly between my fingers, feeling the coolness of the metal that once rested against her skin. I tuck the bracelet into my pocket, a secret reminder that she existed in this world, here in this room, before she was pulled away from me. Tonight, I am a shadow in her room, a ghost in the memory of her life, and for these few hours, that’s enough.

I curl up against the wall. The quietness of the night passes over me, and for the first time tonight, I feel calm. It’s refreshing to not need one eye open while I sleep or have to look over my shoulder. However, since I’m not used to the quiet, sleep doesn’t come easily. Dipping my hand into my pocket, I press my fingers against the bracelet. My chest tightens, a mix of longing and exhilaration that refuses to settle. Eventually, I drift off to somewhere between a memory and a dream. In my mind, she’s here with me, smiling at me from the corner of the room, unaware of the dark thrill I carry just beneath my surface. I reach for her in the dream, and she reaches back, but remains just out of my grasp.

My lips twitch into a half-smile as I sink deeper into the quiet obsession that is consuming me like a disease.

16

BRYN

Now

The air outside is warm, and the street is buzzing with late-afternoon energy as the three of us drift from shop to shop. Elodie walks a few steps ahead, talking with her hands the way she always does, her voice bright and animated. Tess lingers beside me, quieter than usual. It pains my heart to know she’s hurting.

‘Okay,’ Elodie says suddenly, stopping outside a boutique window and turning toward us with a dramatic sweep of her arm. ‘Birthday shopping. We are not leaving this street until I find something worthy of my twenty-first.’

‘You say that like we didn’t just spend an hour in the last store,’ Tess murmurs.

‘Yeah, well, that one only had boring options, but I still had to try them all on, just to see.’

‘They didn’t have anything sparkly,’ I point out.

‘Exactly,’ Elodie says, pointing at me. ‘You get it.’

We step back onto the street a few minutes later, empty-handed, Elodie complaining loudly about the lack of taste in this town.

‘Honestly,’ she says, tossing her hair over her shoulder. ‘Do people here want me to look amazing or not?’

‘Maybe they’re trying to protect the rest of us,’ I tease.

We’re halfway down the street when I hear someone call my name.