Sofia sat on her bed, sunlight streaming through the blinds. The day felt off—as if the morning’s encounter with Ewan had set the entire world tilting on its axis. She stared at her phone for a moment before finally dialing Ambie’s number.

“Hey, Sof! What’s going on?” Ambie’s voice was cheerful as always

“I don’t know how to explain it,” Sofia admitted, hugging her knees to her chest. “Ewan… something’s wrong with him.”

“Wrong how?” Ambie asked.

Sofia took a deep breath. “After what happened last night—at the hospital—he was so vulnerable. I stayed with him all night. He fell asleep in my arms, Ambie. And then this morning… he was a completely different person. Cold. Distant. Like I meant nothing to him.”

Ambie’s voice softened. “That sounds… painful. Did you guys fight or something?”

“No.” Sofia shook her head, even though Ambie couldn’t see her. “He didn’t even let me finish my sentences. It’s like he couldn’t wait to get away from me. He didn’t even explain why he was at the hospital in the first place.”

Ambie sighed. “Sofia, I’m going to be real with you—he sounds unpredictable and it’s kind of-“

“I know.” Sofia bit her lip. “But something about it feels… off. Like it’s not just him being closed off—there’s something I can’t explain.”

Ambie paused. “Listen, Sof… just be careful, okay? If he’s pulling away like this, maybe it’s for a reason. And if you ever feel unsafe—”

“I’ll call you,” Sofia promised quickly. “I’m okay, really. I just… needed to get it off my chest.”

“Alright,” Ambie said, her tone still cautious. “But don’t bottle this up. Call me if you need to, okay?”

“I will.” Sofia ended the call, but the unease in her chest didn’t fade.

——

Ewan’s hands trembled as he clutched the edge of the bathroom sink, his breath shallow and uneven.

His reflection stared back at him, pale and hollow, his wide eyes framed by dark circles. He didn’t recognize himself.

His chest tightened, and he let out a sharp, shaky exhale. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

Images—vague, distorted, like looking through frosted glass—flashed in his mind. A shadowy figure. A scream. The overwhelming need to act.

But no matter how much he tried, the pieces refused to connect.

“Why can’t I remember?” he whispered, his voice cracking as he gripped the sink tighter.

Suddenly, the mirror shattered under his clenched fist, shards scattering across the counter. Blood seeped from his knuckles, but the pain barely registered.

Without thinking, he stumbled to his room, tearing through drawers and shelves like a man possessed. He didn’t know what he was searching for—only that he had to find it.

But there was nothing.

No answers. No clarity.

Only the suffocating weight of something he couldn’t name.

His breathing quickened, the walls of the room seeming to close in around him.

“Stop it,” he muttered to himself, his voice shaking. “Stop. Stop. Stop!”

He dropped to his knees, clutching his head as his vision blurred, dark spots creeping in at the edges.

Then, just as quickly as it had come, the wave passed, leaving him in a heavy, unsettling silence.

Meanwhile, Sofia felt a bit lighter after her talk with Ambie.

Ambie had been reassuring, even cracking a few jokes to lighten the mood, and for a while, Sofia had felt like maybe things weren’t as bad as they seemed.

She lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling, her mind wandering back to Ewan despite her efforts to focus on anything else.

“He’ll come around,” Ambie had said, her voice warm and confident. “Just give him some space. He’s probably dealing with something he doesn’t want to burden you with.”

Sofia wanted to believe that.

But the way Ewan had looked at her—the cold, detached way he had pushed her away—it felt like more than just stress or a bad mood.

Still, she pushed the thought aside, allowing herself to drift into a light nap.

——

The streets were quiet, the faint hum of streetlights the only sound as Ewan wandered aimlessly through the city.

He didn’t know where he was going.

His body moved on its own, his steps slow and heavy, like he was dragging himself through water.

His hands felt warm—too warm. He flexed his fingers, frowning as a sticky sensation clung to his skin.

It wasn’t until he stepped under the glow of a flickering streetlight that he realized why.

His hands were covered in blood