Sleep refused to come easily that night.
Zyra lay awake, staring at the ceiling, Ethan's words replaying in her mind. Someone has been digging into your past. The thought felt unreal, like a sentence from someone else's story.
Beside her, Ethan shifted slightly, then spoke softly. "You're still awake."
"So are you," Zyra replied.
He exhaled. "I keep thinking I missed something. A sign. A warning."
Zyra turned toward him. "You can't protect me from everything."
"I know," he said. "But I want to try."
That made her pause. There was no promise in his voice—just honesty.
Morning arrived with grey clouds and unanswered questions.
Later that day, Ethan received a message.
He read it once. Then again.
Zyra noticed the change in his expression immediately. "What is it?"
"A name," he said slowly. "It came up again."
"Again?" Zyra echoed.
"Yes. I've seen it twice now. Different places. Different people." He hesitated before adding, "It's connected to your family."
Her heart skipped. "Do I know this person?"
"I don't think so," Ethan said. "But whoever it is… they've been careful. Too careful."
Zyra folded her arms, steadying herself. "Then why tell me now?"
"Because I don't want you to hear it from someone else," Ethan replied. "And because I trust you."
She searched his face, looking for doubt, but found none.
"Tell me the name," Zyra said.
Ethan opened his mouth—
And his phone buzzed again.
This time, the message was short.
Stop asking questions.
Zyra felt a chill run through her.
Ethan locked his phone and met her gaze. "That settles it."
"What does?" she asked.
"We're not imagining things anymore," he said. "Someone knows we're getting close."
Outside, thunder rolled softly in the distance, as if the sky itself agreed.
Whatever had been hiding in the shadows had finally noticed them.