Not a storm—just that soft, endless drizzle that made the world feel blurry and gray. Liana walked the cliff path anyway, hood up, hands stuffed into her coat. Her boots squelched against the wet earth, but she didn’t mind. Silence loved the rain.

He was there again.

Same spot. Same stillness. But this time, closer.

Liana didn’t stop walking. But her eyes flicked sideways, sharp and fast. He was watching her, just like before—but not with hunger, or curiosity. It was quieter than that. Like he was memorizing the way she moved.

She hated that it didn’t make her angry. It should have. She was used to stares that judged, mocked, feared. But his felt different. It didn’t pull—it waited.

And that was worse.

As she passed, a part of her wondered—what would happen if I spoke first?

But the thought was gone as quickly as it came.

Liana kept walking. He didn’t follow.

But she felt his silence trailing her like a shadow.