Unseen Hands

Amara couldn't shake the feeling of unease as she walked away from the café. The conversation with Talbot had left her mind swirling. It was all too much for her to handle.

The buzz of her phone in her pocket made her jump. She pulled it out, expecting maybe another message from Talbot or a reminder about the gala. But it wasn't from him.

Unknown Number.

Amara stared at the screen, her thumb hovering over the message. She wasn't sure whether to open it or not. But she had to know. With a deep breath, she opened it.

The message was simple:

"We're waiting."

A chill ran down her spine. Who was "we"? Who had sent this?

The apartment felt quieter than usual. The shadows seemed longer. She hurriedly tossed her phone on the couch and stepped into the hallway to check the door. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw something lying on the doorstep.

A small, unmarked envelope.

Amara bent down and picked it up. It was light, almost too light. She could barely feel anything inside. Her pulse raced as she brought it into the apartment and opened it.

Inside was a single photograph.

The photo was of her taken through a window, from a distance. She was walking down the street, just before entering the cafe with Talbot.

Her stomach churned as she stared at the image. How had someone gotten this? She hadn't noticed anyone following her.

Just then, she heard the faintest sound—a footstep outside her door.

It was slow. Steady.

Amara froze.

She dropped the photo, its edges fluttering to the floor.

The sound came again. Closer this time.

She rushed to the window, heart pounding, but when she pulled back the curtain, there was nothing.

No one.

Her pulse raced as the silence seemed to press in on her, heavy and thick. Then, a final message buzzed on her phone:

"This is only the beginning."

Her hands shook as she stared at the screen. The words felt like a warning. Or a promise.