Part 43
(Leah's POV)
Leah woke up to the sound of Adrian pacing again.
It had become a rhythm — his footsteps marking every hour of their silence.
He'd barely eaten, barely looked at her.
At first, she thought it was exhaustion, maybe trauma catching up.
But this was something different. Something colder.
When she entered the living room, he stopped moving.
Didn't say a word.
Just watched her like she'd walked into a space she no longer belonged in.
"You didn't sleep again," she said softly.
"No."
"Do you want me to—"
"No."
The sharpness of that word cut deeper than she expected.
He'd never spoken to her like that before.
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She busied herself with small things — washing dishes, folding blankets, anything that filled the space.
But the silence followed her, thick and watchful.
Adrian's reflection in the window looked wrong somehow.
Paranoid. Haunted.
When she caught him staring at her hands, she froze.
"What?" she asked.
"Nothing," he muttered, turning away.
Nothing.
But the look said everything — suspicion, doubt, maybe even fear.
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That night, Leah sat on the porch.
The jungle air was heavy, thick with humidity and the scent of rain.
She couldn't shake the feeling that someone else was out there — not just the insects or the wind.
Something deliberate.
A faint rustle behind the trees.
A flash of light — like a reflection.
Her pulse quickened.
"Adrian?" she called, but her voice came out smaller than she meant.
No answer.
Only the sound of leaves shifting.
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She went back inside, trying to steady her breathing.
But as she closed the door, she noticed something strange on the kitchen counter — a single sunflower, fresh and glistening with dew.
Her heart stopped.
Adrian was asleep on the couch, unaware.
Leah stared at the flower, trembling.
She didn't know what scared her more — the fact that someone had broken in to leave it...
or the thought that Adrian might think she had.