Dangerous Confessions

The storm had retreated, leaving behind a sky the color of bruised plums and the lingering scent of ozone. Serena stood by her living room window, watching the last of the rain bead on the glass, each drop a tiny, distorted reflection of the city lights. Adrian was in the kitchen, the low murmur of his voice on the phone a steady anchor in the quiet apartment. He had been here for hours, moving with that silent, unnerving efficiency, checking locks, scanning the perimeter, and making calls that kept the outside world at bay.

“They’re canvassing the block now,” he said, his voice dropping as he hung up. He walked back into the living room, his gaze sweeping over her as if cataloging her every breath. “No sign of him.”

Serena hugged herself, a familiar chill snaking through her despite the apartment’s warmth. “He was too close, Adrian. He was *right there*.” The memory of his face, distorted by the rain and distance, still made her stomach clench.