I didn’t want to believe Aiden, but the next day, I found a neatly folded and stuffed into my locker.
“You’re next.”
That was all it said. Two simple words scrawled in jagged handwriting on a piece of notebook paper. At first, I thought it was some cruel prank, but the unease wouldn’t leave me. And then it started happening more frequently—scraps of paper with chilling messages stuffed in my bag, tucked into my books, or even slipped into my pocket when I wasn’t looking.
“Evelyn thought she was safe too.”
“You’re just like her.”
“Stop asking questions, or you’ll regret it.”
I tried to ignore them, convincing myself that it was just someone trying to scare me, but the sabotage began soon after. My locker was trashed, my books ripped, my clothes splashed with something that smelled like paint thinner. Whoever it was didn’t just want to scare me—they wanted me to feel completely powerless.
By the time Halloween rolled around, I was a nervous wreck. Every sound, every shadow felt like a threat.
I was standing by my locker that afternoon, staring at the latest note—*“You’re running out of time”—*when Aiden appeared at my side.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he said, leaning casually against the lockers, his smirk absent for once.
I crumpled the note in my hand, shoving it into my bag. “Go away, Aiden.”
“Not until you tell me you’re taking the deal,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “You’ve been acting weird all week.”
I shot him a glare, slamming my locker shut. “Weird? That’s rich coming from you.”
He grabbed my wrist as I started to walk away, his grip firm but not rough. “Lila,” he said, his tone softer now. “If someone’s messing with you—”
“Why do you care?” I snapped, cutting him off. “For all I know, it’s you or one of your brothers doing this!”
Aiden flinched, and for a moment, something like hurt flashed in his eyes. But then he recovered, his usual smirk slipping back into place. “If I wanted to scare you, I wouldn’t leave notes,” he said dryly. “I’d just tell you to your face.”
“That’s comforting,” I muttered, pulling my wrist free and walking away.
Later that evening, as I walked home from school, I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was following me. The street was quiet, the crisp autumn air filled with the scent of fallen leaves, but every few steps, I felt the weight of someone’s gaze on my back.
When I finally reached my house, I locked the door behind me and leaned against it, my heart pounding. “You’re just being paranoid,” I told myself, but the words felt hollow.
That night, I tossed and turned in bed, my mind racing with thoughts of Evelyn, the notes, and the Cross brothers. Sleep came in fitful bursts, and every time I closed my eyes, I dreamed of shadows and whispers.
It was past midnight when I woke up, the hair on the back of my neck standing on end. At first, I wasn’t sure what had pulled me from sleep, but then I felt it—a presence.
I froze, my breath catching in my throat as I slowly turned my head toward the foot of the bed.
Someone was standing there. With Evelyn’s diary in their hands. Watching me.
Diary Entry
Date: October 31st, 11:40 PM
Dear Diary,
It’s getting worse. At first, I thought the notes were just another one of their games, but now… I don’t know. Whoever’s leaving them knows too much. About Evelyn, about me, about everything. And it’s not just the notes anymore. My stuff keeps getting messed with, and every time I think it’s over, something else happens.
The Cross brothers act like they care—like they’re worried—but how can I trust them? Grayson is always cryptic and cold, Aiden keeps making these ridiculous deals, and Asher… Asher’s too charming for his own good. But if it’s not them, then who? Who wants me to feel like I’m constantly being watched?
I hate this. I hate the way my stomach knots every time I open my locker or look over my shoulder. And I hate that no matter how much I want answers, I’m too scared of what I’ll find.
Lila