The night was restless. I tossed and turned, finding no anchor. Time and again, I slipped into dreams that felt like endless corridors – doors opening with no one passing through, shadows clinging to walls. Eyes staring at me from beneath hoods, never blinking.
Each time I startled awake, I reached for the chain – cold, comforting, but not enough to stop the trembling. The pendant lay heavy on my skin, as if it knew I carried a secret too big for one hand.
Sometime toward morning, I drifted off, but my sleep was shallow, filled with half-formed images: rain on asphalt, a red circle in the dirt, Malaric's face, blurred yet close. When I woke, my body felt as if I'd spent the night fighting.
---
While packing my school things, the note almost fell out of my bag. I grabbed for it, too hastily. The paper crinkled loudly, and Tom, who was just rummaging through his backpack for sports gear, looked up.
"What's that?" he asked, suspicious yet innocent at the same time.
