I didn't go home.
I couldn't.
The thing I saw near the gate…
It was still there.
Not moving.
Not blinking.
Just watching.
I turned away quickly, pretending like I hadn't seen it. My steps were fast, uneven, almost running.
My heart wouldn't calm down.
Now he can see you too.
The words from the notebook kept repeating in my head.
I needed answers.
And there was only one person who might have them.
She was where I expected her to be.
Near the east hallway.
By the window.
Like always.
Like she never left.
Like she had always been there.
She looked at me before I even said anything.
"You saw him again," she said.
Not a question.
A statement.
I stopped a few steps away from her.
My breathing was still heavy.
"What is that thing?" I asked.
My voice sounded different.
Thinner.
Like it didn't fully belong to me.
She didn't answer immediately.
Her eyes shifted, scanning the hallway… checking.
For what?
For who?
Then she stepped closer.
Too close.
"You shouldn't say it out loud," she whispered.
A chill ran down my spine.
"Say what?"
"Anything about them."
Them.
Not him.
Them.
My chest tightened.
"There's more than one?"
She didn't respond.
That was answer enough.
I clenched my fists.
"Start talking," I said, my voice shaking despite myself. "I'm done guessing."
For a moment, I thought she would walk away.
But she didn't.
Instead, she looked straight into my eyes.
And for the first time—
I saw how tired she was.
Not physically.
Something deeper.
Like someone who had been running for too long.
"They're not supposed to be seen," she said quietly.
Her voice was calm.
Too calm.
"But sometimes… something goes wrong."
My mind raced.
"What do you mean 'goes wrong'?"
She ignored the question.
"If you see them once, it's already bad."
A pause.
"If you see them twice…"
Her voice dropped even lower.
"They start noticing you."
My stomach twisted.
I had seen it twice.
Maybe more.
I didn't even know anymore.
"And when they notice you?" I asked.
She hesitated.
That hesitation said more than any answer.
"Then you're part of it."
My breath caught.
"Part of what?"
No answer.
Instead, she looked down.
Then back up.
"You've already lost time, haven't you?"
My fingers tightened around the notebook.
"How do you know that?"
"Because it always starts with time."
A cold wave passed through me.
"First, minutes," she continued.
"Then hours."
Her eyes darkened slightly.
"Then entire days."
My heart skipped a beat.
"No… that's not possible."
"It is."
The way she said it—
No doubt.
No hesitation.
Like she had lived it.
"Why is this happening?" I asked.
She shook her head slowly.
"I don't know the full reason."
But she knew something.
I could see it.
"You're lying."
"I'm not."
"Then tell me what you do know."
Silence.
The hallway around us felt distant.
Muted.
Like we were standing outside reality.
"They don't exist the way we do," she said finally.
"They're not people."
"I figured that out," I muttered.
Her expression didn't change.
"They're closer to… gaps."
"Gaps?"
"In time. In memory. In reality."
I frowned.
"That doesn't make any sense."
"It doesn't have to," she said quietly. "You just have to survive it."
That word again.
Survive.
Like this was something that could kill me.
A sudden thought hit me.
"Why can I see them?"
Her eyes met mine.
And for a second—
Something changed.
"You really don't know…" she whispered.
"What?"
She looked away.
"You will."
That answer made my skin crawl.
"That's not good enough."
"It's the only answer you're getting right now."
Anger flared inside me.
"People are disappearing from my life. Time is disappearing. And you're telling me to just wait?!"
Her gaze snapped back to mine.
Sharp.
"You think you're the only one?"
The words hit hard.
"I've been dealing with this longer than you."
Her voice trembled slightly.
Not with fear.
With frustration.
"With rules you don't understand yet."
"Then explain them."
A long silence.
Then she said:
"Rule one."
Her voice became steady again.
"Don't look at them for too long."
I swallowed.
"Too late."
"Rule two," she continued.
"Don't talk about them where others can hear."
I glanced around.
People were still passing.
Laughing.
Unaware.
"Rule three…"
She hesitated.
And that hesitation scared me more than anything.
"Never let them get close."
Too late.
Way too late.
I stepped back unconsciously.
"They already did," I said.
Her face went pale.
"For how long?"
"I don't know."
Her breathing changed.
Faster now.
That was the first real sign of fear.
"Then you need to be careful," she said quickly.
"Careful how?"
Before she could answer—
The lights above us flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then—
Everything went silent.
Completely silent.
No footsteps.
No voices.
Nothing.
My heart pounded in my ears.
She froze.
Slowly…
Very slowly…
She looked behind me.
Her eyes widened.
"No…" she whispered.
I didn't want to turn.
I really didn't.
But something inside me—
Forced me to.
And when I did—
It was there.
Closer than before.
Much closer.
Standing right behind me.
Waiting.