Chapter 8:The Storm We Never Saw Coming

The next morning, the rain came hard and fast.

Sheets of water drummed against the windows of Mira's apartment, blurring the view like a memory half-forgotten. She sat by the window wrapped in Aaron's hoodie, a steaming mug in her hands and her thoughts tangled in the echo of last night.

He was still asleep in the other room. She could hear the soft rhythm of his breathing, steady and real. For the first time in what felt like years, the silence between them was warm, not cold.

Mira touched her fingers to the glass.

Was this what healing felt like?

Quiet. Gentle. Like the world was slowly stitching itself back together.

But even as her heart softened, a knot in her stomach refused to untangle.

Aaron had seen a piece of her darkness—read the letter she'd never meant to send. And he had stayed. But she couldn't ignore the truth: sometimes, even love isn't enough to protect you from the past.

Her phone buzzed.

A message.

From a number she hadn't seen in over a year.

"I saw your name in the paper. You're not safe. Neither is he."

—L.

Her hands trembled.

Lena. The name was like broken glass in her mind.

Aaron stirred behind her. "You okay?" he mumbled, voice raspy.

Mira quickly locked the screen and turned, forcing a small smile. "Yeah. Just… a lot on my mind."

He didn't push. He never did. But something in his eyes said he noticed the way her fingers shook.

By afternoon, they took a walk through the city. The storm had passed, but the streets glistened with leftover rain and light. Mira felt different. Like she was carrying a weight again—but this time, not just hers.

"Aaron," she said suddenly, "can I ask you something… serious?"

He looked over. "Always."

"If… something from my past came back, something dangerous—would you still stay?"

He stopped walking. "Mira, what are you not telling me?"

She hesitated. Then: "There's someone. Someone who knew me when I was… breaking. And she doesn't believe I've changed. She thinks I'm still a threat—to myself, and maybe even to you."

Aaron's jaw tightened. "Do you think she's right?"

Mira looked down. "I think she's angry. And scared. But I also think… she's watching."

A silence fell between them, heavier than before. Then Aaron reached for her hand. Held it tightly.

"Whatever's coming," he said, "we face it together."

Mira nodded slowly, but the unease didn't leave her.

Some ghosts don't wait in the past.

Some chase you into the present.

And far behind them, in the crowd, a pair of eyes watched—unblinking.