Amy was laughing as she stood by the window, golden light catching the edges of her curls, sipping orange juice like it was any other day.
She had no idea someone had just threatened her life and I couldn't breathe.
The phone still clutched in my hand buzzed with residual fear, the memory of the deep voice lingering like cold breath on my neck.
"If you don't stop what you're doing… she gets hurt". Those words had turned my bloodstream to ice.
Now I watched Amy..my friend, my ally, my partner in this fight, blissfully unaware of the danger inching closer to us.
I tried to smile. "Hey," I said softly, my voice betraying nothing.
She turned with a grin. "You okay?"
I nodded, too quickly. "Yeah. Just… thinking."
Amy gave me a curious look, then shrugged. "We deserve a breath anyway. We've been in battle mode for weeks."
Battle!,that's exactly what this was.
Only now the war wasn't just between me and Michael, it was bigger, darker, full of shadows I couldn't see clearly.
I didn't tell her about the threat as at all the conflicting emotions.
Because some part of me still believed I could fix it before it got worse.
I was wrong.
That night, I didn't sleep, I kept hearing the voice.
Not Michael's.
Colder.
Calculated.
Someone who had been watching from the dark, long enough to know where I was, who I was with.
I checked the locks..twice.
Sat by the window and scrolled through all the contacts on my phone. Who would know where I was?
Who could have been watching us?
When I finally fell asleep, it was with the lights on and one shoe still on my foot ready to run.
The next morning, things got worse.
I went to my locker before class, and taped to the inside of the vent was a folded piece of paper.
Yellowed, the edges crinkled, my name written in red ink.
Hands trembling, I unfolded it.
"One more step, and you won't be the only one bleeding".
Below the words was a crude drawing of a girl long hair, hunched over with a knife held to her throat.
Blood scribbled in ink red.
I stumbled backward, breath catching in my throat.
This wasn't just a threat anymore.
It was personal and graphic sick.
I ran to the restroom and locked myself in a stall, pressing my forehead against the cold metal wall.
Was this what it meant to fight for your truth?
To be hunted for speaking up?
I took a photo of the note, saved it, and texted Nia.
She replied instantly:
Meet me..now, don't be alone.
We met in a café near the law school low lighting, quiet music, corner table with full view of every entrance and exit.
Nia didn't waste time.
She scanned the photo, then my face.
"You're not just being harassed anymore. This is premeditated and seriously organized."
My heart pounded.
"Organized?"
She nodded…"Yes!, they're not working alone. Michael has help."
I leaned forward. "Amy?"
Nia hesitated.
"No. Someone else, someone who's been in your space long before Amy got involved."
I froze. "Like who?"
She pulled out a tablet, scrolled through a few images, then stopped.
"This," she said, showing me a grainy still from dorm hallway CCTV footage.
Two figures…One was Michael.
The other wore a black hoodie, head down but the phone in his hand caught the light.
It had a cracked blue case, exactly like mine.
"That's not my phone," I said immediately.
Nia nodded…. "No! but it was in your dorm".
I stared. "You think someone cloned my phone?"
"Or got access to it."
A sick feeling bloomed in my gut. My hands curled into fists beneath the table.
"How long?"
Nia looked grim. "Long enough to know everything. Where you go, who you talk to and your patterns".
I felt like I couldn't breathe.
"Why me?" I whispered.
Nia's eyes softened just slightly. "Because you were the first one who said no.
Who called him out.
You embarrassed him.
That made you a threat. Now he's trying to control the narrative by destroying yours."
I left the café with my mind on fire.
And then… Amy went missing.
She didn't show up to her 2 p.m. lecture.
Didn't reply to any of my texts.
Didn't answer calls.
I ran to her dorm.
Her door was closed, locked.. no answer.
I begged the hall monitor to let me in, but they said she hadn't signed out all day.
Panic gripped me like a noose.
I called Nia again.
"Track her phone," I said. "Please."
Ten minutes later, Nia sent me a location pin.
I stared at it, breath caught.
Michael's neighborhood.
No!!
No way.
I called her again.
No answer.
I texted: "Amy, where are you?"*
Then… she replied.
"With someone who owed me an apology".
The world tilted.
She'd gone to him.
After everything, she went back.
I called Nia.
"She's not missing," I said bitterly. "She betrayed me."
Nia's voice was cold steel. "Then we adjust. We cut her out, Immediately. This isn't the first time an ally flipped mid-fight. But it can't cost you your peace."
I nodded, barely able to speak.
I felt gutted…hollow.
The girl who once sat beside me, shoulder to shoulder, fighting for truth… had become another part of the enemy's game.
Amy called me later that night.
"I just needed clarity," she said softly. "I needed closure."
"You disappeared on me."
"I didn't think it'd matter that much"
"You vanished to go talk to a man who leaked a video of me?"
She was quiet.
Then: "I needed to understand why he did it."
I said nothing. There was nothing left to say.
So I hung up.
Blocked her number.
Deleted her contact.
Erased every photo we'd ever taken together.
And cried for hours.
But thenwhen the tears dried, I made a vow.
I would not be taken down by people who couldn't face the mirror.
I stayed at Nia's apartment that night, a small, minimalist space above a bookstore, full of sharp corners and soft silence.
We reviewed everything again the screenshots, videos, voice recordings.
Then Nia paused on something.
A still shot of Michael laughing in a chat with the burner account we'd used to bait him.
She looked at me.
"You want to end this?" she asked.
I met her eyes. "More than anything."
She nodded. "Then it's time to turn the light on, we expose him…all the way."
But just as she said it… her phone buzzed.
She frowned.
Then held it up.
A new message.
From an unknown number.
She thought cutting me off would end it. But I already told you… this isn't over.
Attachment!
A photo of me
Sitting in Nia's apartment and was taken just minutes ago.
Through the window.