Chapter 3 Lena's Pov

I couldn't stop shaking.

Even after Ray left me at the café with the excuse that he had "somewhere to be," my hands wouldn't stop trembling. His voice echoed over and over in my head like a broken record.

"The next body they find... might be yours."

He said it so calmly, like it was inevitable, like he wasn't just talking about my death. I had wanted to laugh, to deny it, to convince myself that he was wrong or being dramatic-but the truth was, his words made too damn much sense.

That man in the alley...He died after trying to hurt me and whoever killed him... they knew what he tried to do.

I sat in the booth alone for a long time, until the staff began shooting me pitying glances and hinting it was time to leave. My legs wobbled as I stood. The glass Ray gave me was still half-full, sweat clinging to its surface, abandoned like a ghost.

I stepped outside, and the world felt sharper somehow. Every noise was louder, every color more saturated or maybe it was just fear doing that to me.

I reached for my phone as I walked and called into work with a hoarse voice "Food poisoning," I said. It wasn't a total lie-I had thrown up, hadn't I?

I didn't go straight home. Instead, I walked to the small park near my apartment complex and sat under the oak tree that had lost most of its leaves. It was quiet there and safer, somehow. The sunlight spilled through the branches like liquid gold, but all I could feel was cold.

"Someone killed that man to protect you."

Ray's words haunted me like a whisper on my skin. It should have terrified me. It did terrify me but under all the fear, another emotion stirred.

Relief.

The man would have raped me or maybe killed me but now he was dead. Someone made sure he couldn't hurt me-or anyone else-again.

But why me? Why would someone protect a nobody like me?

Was Ray lying? Was he the one who did it? He admitted to following me and watching me. What if the man I was sitting across from at the café was the same one who carved up a human body the night before?

I shook my head. It couldn't be. No... his eyes. There was something broken in them, something sad. He didn't seem like a killer but then again... what did a killer look like?

I reached into my bag and pulled out the napkin he gave me. The black tulip stared back at me like an eye. It was delicate, beautiful, and wrong. I remembered seeing it once in a news article-the first murder, the girl who was found in her bathtub. I hadn't paid much attention then. It was just another tragedy in the city.

But now... Now it felt personal.

My chest tightened again. I closed my eyes and tried to steady my breath, pressing my palms against the cold earth beneath me. I needed answers.

I needed to talk to Ray again.

Just then, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, it was a message from an unknown number.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: You were lucky last night. Stay lucky. Stay quiet.

I froze and my lungs stopped working. My thumb hovered over the screen, my pulse racing.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Some monsters don't want to be seen and some... protect what's theirs.

My mouth went dry.

"Protect what's theirs..."

Was that supposed to mean me?

I sprang to my feet, chest heaving, looking around like I expected someone to jump out from the bushes but no one did. Nothing but the soft rustle of the wind and a lone squirrel darting up a tree. I backed away slowly and made my way home in a daze, double-checking every street I crossed, every car that passed too slowly.

Inside my apartment, I locked the door, deadbolted it, and shoved a chair beneath the knob for good measure. I stood in the middle of my living room, unsure what to do next.

My phone buzzed again. It was another message.

UNKNOWN: Don't worry I will keep you safe.

I dropped the phone. My heart punched against my ribs as I stared at it lying face-down on the carpet. My mouth was dry and my knees were giving out again.

Was this real? Was I going crazy?

I stumbled toward my window and yanked the curtain aside.

Across the street, a man in a dark hoodie stood under the bus stop awning, hands buried in his pockets, head down.

Was it a coincidence?

I didn't care. I pulled the curtain shut and backed away, trying not to scream.

I grabbed my phone from the floor and dialed Ray's number-he had written it on the napkin beneath the symbol. It rang twice, then straight to voicemail.

I called again but it was the same result.

"Where the hell was he?"

I curled into a corner on my couch, arms wrapped around my knees. Every creak in the hallway outside made me flinch. Every siren in the distance made me hold my breath. Eventually, I drifted off, too exhausted to stay awake, but not truly asleep either.

************************************************

The next thing I knew, it was evening-and someone was knocking on my door.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Three steady hits. I jolted up and I froze. No one ever came to my apartment without calling first.

"Who is it?" I called, voice shaky.

No answer.

I moved closer, pressing my eye to the peephole and again no one was there. The hallway was empty. I opened the door just a crack-and something fell to the ground at my feet.

It was a small box wrapped in brown paper. It had no label, no name. My hands trembled as I reached down and picked it up. It was light-too light. I peeled the wrapping away carefully, afraid of what I'd find inside.

The lid creaked as I opened it.

Inside was a single black tulip. It was fresh and wet with dew and underneath it...A photograph.

It was me. I was sleeping on my couch. The same position I was just in.

The time on the photograph was dated to Ten minutes ago. My breath caught in my throat. My body went cold. I dropped the box, and the flower spilled onto the floor.

I wasn't alone.

Someone had been here.

Someone was watching me.