A picture of Lena.

She was sitting in her apartment, staring at the empty space beside her, her eyes wide and full of fear.

And the caption: “Who is she talking to?”

I stared at the screen for a long, terrible moment.

It wasn’t just a trick of the light.

Lena wasn’t alone.

There was someone else with her.

And it wasn't in her mind.

It was real.

The blood drained from my face.

I had to go back.

9

LENA

I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

The weight of everything, all the things I hadn’t told Mira—everything that was slowly suffocating me—I had to let it out.

There was no more running.

No more pretending.

Cassian was there, in every shadow, every dark corner, a suffocating presence I couldn’t escape.

I was sitting on the edge of the couch, my hands shaking as I stared at the floor.

Mira stood across from me, her arms folded tightly, her brow furrowed with concern.

I could see the worry etched in her face, the way her eyes flicked to the door as if expecting someone else to walk in, someone who would make this all better.

But there was no one.

It was just us.

And Cassian.

“Mira…”

My voice cracked, thick with the weight of everything I hadn’t said.

She turned toward me, her gaze softening just a little, but there was a distant edge to her eyes now.

She’d been so patient with me, always trying to understand, but I hadn’t given her the whole picture.

Not until now.

“I have to tell you something,” I whispered, barely able to meet her eyes. “Cassian... he’s real. He’s not in my head. He’s not just some hallucination. He’s here.”

Mira blinked.

Once.

Twice.

As if the words didn’t quite register.

I saw her body tense, her hands balled into fists.

But I couldn’t take it back.

Her voice was shaky, soft.

“Lena, what do you mean? How can he be real? You’ve been seeing a psychiatrist, you’re on medication—this… this isn’t you.”

“I wish it wasn’t,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “But it is. He... he’s in my head, Mira. And I know it sounds crazy. But you have to believe me. He’s been with me since the accident. And now… he won’t leave.”

Mira stepped back, her face pale, her mouth opening as if to say something, but the words never came.

The silence in the room stretched long and oppressive.

I could feel Cassian’s presence, just behind me, cold and suffocating.

His fingers were like ice against my spine, like he was right there, touching me.

I shivered, trying to control my body, trying to force myself to stay grounded, but the dread was too much.

Finally, Mira spoke, her voice small, fragile, like glass breaking.

“You need to see another doctor, Lena. Someone else. I… I can’t—this isn’t you. You’re not well. You need help.”

But I didn’t know how to help myself anymore.

I opened my mouth to respond, but then I felt it.

 A sharp, deep pain, like claws raking down my back, digging into my flesh.

“No, Lena. You don’t get to walk away from me.”

The words came from deep within, cutting into my mind like jagged glass.

I gasped, my hand clutching my chest as the pain intensified.

It wasn’t just in my head.

It was real.

I tried to scream, but the sound died in my throat as I felt the deep, searing scratches tear through my skin.

My body jerked, and I stumbled forward, falling onto the floor as the pain spiked, unbearable, like my very bones were being shattered.

Mira’s voice was a distant echo.

“Lena? Lena!” she cried, her voice frantic, but I couldn’t respond.

I looked down at my back, and I saw it.

The scratches.

Deep, jagged, and raw, like something had clawed at me from the inside out.

Blood dripped from the wounds, pooling on the floor beneath me.

But it wasn’t just the blood that made my stomach turn—it was the way they looked.

The pattern, the way the cuts seemed to overlap, as if someone had done this before.

Someone had done this before.