Elena's POV
"We tried our best, babe. We just have to wait for them to call," Julian said.
I nodded. Silent. Tired.
We waited. For hours.
Nothing.
We stayed up all night. Still—nothing.
The silence wasn't peace. It was pressure. It was fear in disguise.
Every time my phone lit up, my heart raced. But it was never them.
I wanted to scream. But all I did was wait.
Julian sat by the window, eyes scanning the dark street like answers might be hiding in the shadows. His phone lay on the table, untouched, screen black—just like mine.
I curled into the corner of the couch, blanket over my legs, hands cold despite everything.
"They'll call," he said again, like it was a fact.
"What if they don't?" My voice cracked before I could catch it.
He looked at me then. Really looked. "They will. People like that—they need an audience."
I nodded again, but I didn't believe it. Not fully.
Because silence could mean anything.
And I was starting to think the worst.
