The letter stayed on the table — unopened again and again.

  That night, she dreamed of the old lighthouse.

  Adam stood there, half-turned, asking, “Why didn’t you follow me?”

  She woke with tears she couldn’t name.

  Yara hadn’t cried in years.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  The next morning, her apartment door was ajar.

  Nothing stolen. But the smell of lilacs lingered.

  "He used to leave those after I cried," she thought.

  She checked the locks three times.

  Everything felt… watched.

  Loneliness warped the air around her.

  But maybe it wasn’t loneliness anymore.

  "If this is madness, it’s wearing his smile."

  Still, part of her felt something waking up.

  And it wasn’t friendly.