She dropped her bag by the door and wrapped her arms around herself, feeling awkward.
"You're sure this is okay?" she asked, voice small.
Lucas gave her a look , half exasperated, half amused.
"Asking me that now? After I practically dragged you here?"
A breathless laugh escaped her, surprising them both.
"There it is," Lucas said, grinning. "The real Aurora."
Her cheeks flushed, but she smiled anyway.
Maybe, just maybe, she could find pieces of herself again.
After getting settled in, Aurora and Lucas sat on the couch, a ridiculous sitcom playing in the background while they both pretended to be watching.
In reality, Aurora was hyper-aware of every shift of the apartment's shadows.
Every creak of the walls.
Lucas seemed to notice.
"You know," he said casually, tossing a piece of popcorn into his mouth, "if you keep staring at the door like that, you're going to burn a hole through it."
Aurora smiled tightly. "Sorry."
"Don't be," he said, more serious now. "You're safe here. I promise."
She believed him.
She wanted to believe him.
But when the laughter from the TV track faded into silence, she heard it ….
A faint scratching.
Her body tensed instantly.
Lucas noticed her posture stiffen and muted the TV.
"What is it?" he asked in a low voice.
Aurora shook her head, straining to listen.
There it was again.
Soft. Deliberate.
At the window this time.
Lucas was already moving before Aurora could fully process it.
He crossed the room quietly, peering out through the blinds.
A curse under his breath.
"What?" she whispered, heart hammering.
He turned, eyes grim.
"There's someone outside."
Before panic could fully bloom, Lucas added, "Stay here."
He grabbed a baseball bat leaning by the door, Aurora wondered distantly if he kept it there for reasons exactly like this ….and slipped out onto the balcony.
Aurora hovered by the couch, every instinct screaming at her to run, to hide but her feet were rooted to the spot.
Moments later, Lucas returned, breathing hard.
"Who was it?" Aurora demanded.
"No one," he said, jaw tight. "But there were footprints. Fresh ones."
He scrubbed a hand down his face.
"I think we should call the police," he said finally.
Aurora hesitated.
Part of her still didn't want to be the girl who cried wolf.
But the other part ….the part that remembered Ethan's eyes across the street, the open door to her apartment knew the danger was real.
"Okay," she whispered.
Lucas gave a short nod, already pulling out his phone.
Aurora's mind flashed to her sixteenth birthday.
A warm summer night, music playing from someone's ancient stereo, the air thick with laughter and cheap perfume.
She remembered the way Ethan had looked at her that night.
Like she was the only person in the world.
He had given her a necklace .. a simple silver locket and whispered in her ear, "You'll always be mine."
At the time, it had felt romantic.
Now, looking back, it felt like a warning she hadn't understood.
Possession disguised as devotion.
The police came and went.
There wasn't much they could do . No cameras, no witnesses.
Just footprints smudged in the dirt, fading fast.
Lucas stayed tense long after they left, his hands clenched into fists.
"You're not going back there," he said firmly.
"It's not safe."
Aurora nodded, exhausted.
Too tired to argue.
Lucas set up a makeshift bed for her on the couch, offering her his own room but she refused.
She didn't want to displace him more than she already had.
As she lay under the borrowed blanket, staring at the ceiling, she thought about how easily fear crept into the smallest corners of life.
How quickly safety could become an illusion.
She squeezed her eyes shut, willing sleep to come.
But somewhere, deep down, she knew:
This wasn't the end.
It was only the beginning.
Ethan sat in the driver's seat of his car, parked a block away from Lucas's building.
His knuckles were white around the steering wheel.
He had seen her.
Seen Aurora follow Lucas inside.
Seen the way she smiled at him.
Betrayal burned in his chest, hot and blinding.
She wasn't supposed to move on.
She wasn't supposed to forget him.
"You'll remember," Ethan whispered to the night.
"I'll make sure you remember."
He glanced at the object resting on the passenger seat …a thin, wrapped package.
Something she wouldn't be able to ignore.
A 'gift', just for her.
The first of many.
The next morning, Aurora woke to the scent of coffee and the low murmur of music playing softly from the kitchen.
For a moment, she let herself pretend everything was normal.
That she wasn't sleeping on Lucas's couch because her ex-boyfriend had become a shadow lurking at the edges of her life.
But the moment she sat up, reality sank back in, heavy and cold.
Lucas appeared a moment later, two mugs in hand.
"Morning," he said, offering her one.
"Thanks," she mumbled, curling her fingers around the warm ceramic mug.
He studied her carefully.
"You sleep okay?"
Aurora gave a small nod. "Better than I expected."
Truthfully, she had dozed fitfully, waking at every creak, every gust of wind rattling the window blind.
But she didn't want Lucas worrying more than he already was.
"Good," he said simply, though his eyes lingered on her face a second longer than necessary, like he could see through the lie.
They sat together in comfortable silence, sipping coffee as the morning sun pushed its way stubbornly through the blinds.
But the peace was short-lived.
A sharp knock at the door shattered the quiet.
Aurora's entire body went rigid.
Lucas was up in an instant, motioning for her to stay back.
He peered through the peephole, his shoulders tensing.
"It's just a delivery guy," he said after a moment, voice low.
He opened the door cautiously.
A small box sat on the doormat.
No delivery guy in sight.
Lucas frowned, scooping up the box and bringing it inside.
There was no address, no postage.
Just Aurora's name scrawled across the top in messy black ink.
She stared at it, her stomach twisting.
"Don't open it," Lucas said quickly.
But she had already crossed the room, her fingers trembling as she lifted the lid.