CHAPTER 31 — THE RETURN OF THE ECHO
Lena didn't tell anyone about the second message.
Not Elias.
Not campus security.
Not even herself, not fully.
She tried to convince her mind that she had misread it, that stress was twisting shadows into shapes she feared. But deep down, she knew. She knew the moment she woke up that morning with the unmistakable feeling of someone having stood by her bed.
Nothing was disturbed. Nothing taken.
But the air felt wrong.
The echo of someone else's breath lingered in the silence.
She wrapped her arms around herself, sitting upright in bed, staring at the faint line of sunlight edging the curtains. She wasn't supposed to feel this way anymore. This was the part of the story where things were meant to get better — where fear loosened its grip.
Instead, it tightened.
A soft knock startled her.
"Lena?" Elias's voice drifted gently through the door. "Are you awake?"
Her pulse steadied, almost automatically. His presence always did that — took the storm inside her and slowed it.
"Yes," she said, clearing her throat. "Come in."
He stepped inside carefully, as if he could sense she'd had a difficult night. His expression softened the moment he saw her posture. He sat on the edge of her desk, giving her space but anchoring her with his presence.
"You didn't answer my text," he said. "I got worried."
"I'm okay," she lied.
He studied her for a moment. His eyes always seemed to see more than she wanted to show.
"Lena," he said quietly, "don't carry this alone."
The words hit her harder than they should have. Because they were the truth she kept running from.
She looked away. "I don't want to keep weighing you down with this."
"You're not weighing me down," he said immediately. "I'm here because I care. Because you matter."
Something tightened in her chest — a mix of relief and fear. Care was dangerous. It made her feel seen, which meant it also made her vulnerable.
Elias continued, voice gentler now. "Did something happen?"
She froze.
His eyes widened just slightly. "Something did happen."
"It's nothing," she whispered.
"Lena—"
Before he could finish, her phone buzzed on the nightstand.
Both of them turned.
Lena's stomach dropped.
Elias stood slowly. "Is it the same number?"
She didn't want to look. Didn't want confirmation. But her hand moved anyway, trembling as she picked up the phone.
A new message blinked on the screen.
**Don't trust him.
He doesn't know you like I do.**
Her throat closed.
Elias saw her expression and stepped closer. "Lena… let me see."
She hesitated — not because she didn't trust him, but because she was afraid of what this would become. Afraid of dragging him deeper into something that had already destroyed enough.
But she handed him the phone.
He read the message. His jaw tensed. For a moment he looked less like the steady, soft-spoken professor she leaned on — and more like someone prepared to fight the world if it meant keeping her safe.
"Whoever this is," he said slowly, "they are trying to isolate you. They want you scared. They want you alone."
Lena wrapped her arms around herself. "It sounds like her."
Elias shook his head. "We don't know that."
"But it feels like her," Lena whispered. "Like she's in the room. Like she's waiting for me to slip."
He exhaled through his nose, steady but tense. "We're reporting this."
"No—"
"Yes," he said firmly. "Because you're not going to disappear into fear again. I won't let that happen."
Lena lowered her gaze. "I just… I wanted this to be over."
"I know," he said softly.
A long silence stretched between them. Outside, a wind stirred the branches against the window, scraping softly like fingers on glass. Lena flinched.
Elias noticed.
He moved closer, but still kept a respectful distance. "Come here," he murmured.
She stepped into him instinctively, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders — warm, steady, grounding. She pressed her forehead to his chest, breathing in the calm he carried.
"You're safe," he whispered. "I promise."
But as he held her, Lena's eyes drifted to the window beside them.
Something glinted.
Something reflective.
Something at the edge of the trees, too still to be a trick of the light.
Her breath caught.
"Elias…" she whispered, tightening her grip on his shirt. "Someone's outside."
He stiffened, turning slightly, his protective instincts ignited in an instant. "Where?"
She pointed with a shaking hand.
Through the glass, half-shadowed by branches, a figure stood.
Not moving.
Not hiding.
Just watching.
And then—
The figure raised a hand.
A slow wave.
Almost affectionate.
Lena stumbled back, a broken sound escaping her.
Elias stepped in front of her, shielding her with his body. "Call campus security. Now."
Her hands shook so violently she nearly dropped her phone.
The figure didn't run.
Didn't flinch.
Just remained there — a silhouette she feared she recognized too well.
By the time security arrived minutes later, the figure was gone.
But on the ground beneath the window, they found a single note weighted by a small stone.
Lena picked it up with trembling fingers.
One sentence.
**I told you it wasn't over.**
She felt her knees weaken.
And for the first time since the nightmare had begun, Elias looked truly afraid.
"Lena…" he murmured, voice quiet, shaken.
"This wasn't a message. This was a promise."