Harper was sorting through a drawer of receipts when her phone buzzed.
She glanced at the screen.
Ian Mercer
6:48 PM
Her breath caught.
She hadn't heard from him since the café. She thought—hoped—he'd gotten the message.
But the preview of the first message told her otherwise:
You looked at me like a stranger. That hurt, Harper.
Then another came in.
I thought we understood each other. You didn't have to bring him.
Harper unlocked her phone, heart pounding. The messages were coming quickly now.
You didn't even say goodbye.
I waited for you.
We were building something real. Why throw it away?
Her thumb hovered over the screen.
Block.
Confirm.
The messages stopped.
She placed the phone face-down and pressed both hands to the counter, trying to steady her breathing. The silence felt too thin—like something might shatter through it any moment.
It didn't last.
Just twenty minutes later, her phone buzzed again.
Unknown Number
7:13 PM
You blocked me. That's okay. I figured you might.
But this isn't over, Harper. You and I aren't done.
Her heart dropped.
Another message followed.
Please don't shut me out. You know this meant something.
Another number. Another tone—calmer this time, but no less chilling.
You can ignore me if you want. But we both know that connection doesn't just disappear.
Harper stared at the screen, then slowly stepped toward the window, her eyes scanning the street outside.
Still.
Too still.
She pulled the curtains closed.
In the living room, Jacob looked up as she entered.
"You okay?" he asked, brow furrowed.
Harper handed him the phone. "He's messaging me from different numbers now."
Jacob's face darkened as he read the messages. "You blocked him and he's still going. That's harassment."
"He's watching the house," she said quietly. "Or close enough to guess."
Jacob reached for his phone. "We're reporting this."
While he called, Harper sat on the couch, phone clutched in her hands like a warning bell.
Another text arrived, this time from yet another unfamiliar number.
I understand you're scared. But don't let fear ruin something that was good.
You looked tired tonight. I worry when you look like that.
Her blood turned cold.
He hadn't just guessed.
He'd seen her.
Jacob hung up. "The station told me to bring everything first thing tomorrow. They'll assign someone, but until then, they're sending a patrol to check in tonight."
Harper barely nodded.
The final message still lingered on her screen:
Just think about it. I'm not angry. I just want us to be right again.
She turned the phone off and sat in the silence that followed.
But it wasn't silence.
Not really.
Because now, she knew someone was out there.
And they weren't done.