Chapter Fifty-Five

Nathaniel was out the door before Celeste could even take a full breath.

Amelia followed a second later, grabbing her jacket off the back of the couch. "Stay here," she said over her shoulder.

Celeste gaped at her. "Like hell I will."

Amelia shot her a warning look, but Celeste was already slipping into her shoes, determined. "I'm not some fragile painting anymore," she reminded her. "I'm coming with you."

Amelia hesitated for half a second, then cursed under her breath. "Fine. But stay close."

They bolted out onto the street, but the man was already gone. The sidewalk was crowded, faces blurring together as people moved under the glow of neon signs and streetlights.

Nathaniel stood a few feet away, scanning the area with sharp, calculating eyes. His stance was rigid, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"Gone," he muttered. "Damn it."

Celeste's heart was still pounding in her chest. She had seen him. He had been right there.

"Do you think he knew I saw him?" she asked quietly.

Nathaniel turned to her, jaw tight. "I think he wanted you to."

The words sent a chill down her spine.

Amelia let out a frustrated breath, raking a hand through her hair. "So what now? We just wait for him to show up again?"

Nathaniel's gaze flickered toward her, then back at Celeste. "No. We make the first move."

Celeste crossed her arms, trying to steady herself. "And how exactly do we do that?"

Nathaniel exhaled, already pulling out his phone. "I have some people who might be able to find out who he is." He glanced at Celeste again, expression unreadable. "And in the meantime, you don't go anywhere alone."

Celeste opened her mouth to protest, but Amelia beat her to it.

"She won't."

Celeste turned to her. "Amelia—"

"No," Amelia said firmly. "This isn't up for discussion."

Celeste frowned, frustration rising. She wasn't some delicate thing that needed protecting—not anymore.

But she could see the worry in Amelia's eyes, the way her fingers curled into her sleeves as if holding onto an invisible thread.

So she swallowed back her protest. For now.

Nathaniel gave a short nod. "Let's go."

They turned back toward the apartment, but Celeste couldn't shake the feeling that someone was still watching.

Back inside, Nathaniel made his calls, pacing by the window as he spoke in hushed tones. Amelia sat on the couch, her knee bouncing anxiously, while Celeste stood near the kitchen, arms crossed.

"He said 'we're not alone,'" Amelia murmured after a moment. "Not just 'I saw someone.'"

Celeste blinked. "Because I felt it," she admitted. "I've been feeling it for days."

Amelia's eyes darkened. "And you didn't say anything?"

"I thought I was being paranoid." Celeste rubbed her arms, suddenly cold. "But tonight…"

Amelia reached out, lacing their fingers together. "You're not paranoid."

Nathaniel hung up his call and turned to them. "I've got someone looking into security footage from around the block," he said. "But if this guy knows what he's doing, he won't let himself be caught that easily."

Celeste's stomach twisted. "And if he does?"

Nathaniel's expression hardened. "Then we find out what he wants. Before he finds another chance to get to you."

Silence settled over the room, heavy with unspoken fear.

Celeste glanced at Amelia, then at Nathaniel.

She wasn't just fighting to exist anymore.

She was fighting to stay safe.