First message
•I’ve always been small, jumpy—like a little mouse always waiting for the floor to crumble. I grew up quiet, overlooked, taught to shrink away from trouble because trouble always found me first. Life was fragile; one wrong step, and everything fell apart, so I learned to stay hidden, safe in the shadows.
Then he appeared. Kade Coresetti.
I first saw him in the rain, when I dropped my books—his hands were large, rough, marked with old scars, but he handed my things back gently. Since then, I’ve felt him everywhere. I catch glimpses of him outside my window, across the street, always watching. Everyone whispers his name like a curse, like he’s something dangerous, something dark. I see the way people step back when he walks past, the cold, unreadable look in his eyes. It terrifies me… but I can’t look away either.
Tonight, I finally work up the courage. I step out into the cold, heart hammering, and stop right in front of him. “Why are you always here?” I ask, voice trembling. “What do you want from me?”