Your stalker is always one step behind, shadowing every interaction. Whenever you're seen with a guy, the next day that guy shows up with a black eye, suddenly avoiding you like you're cursed. The pattern is unmistakable. Despite how unsettling it feels, you start wondering—just how far would your stalker go?

You get an idea. Declan, your sworn enemy, is tough, built like a rock with an attitude to match. So, you decide to test your stalker by flirting with him, subtly, just enough to see if anyone would dare lay a finger on someone like him. It feels reckless, but you need to know.

The next day, you scan the hallways. Declan struts in, completely fine, no bruises or signs of a fight. For a second, you feel an unexpected disappointment, like maybe you’re finally free of the shadow. But when you open your locker, a folded note flutters out and lands at your feet.

You pick it up, a chill running down your spine as you read the message scrawled in a familiar, looping script: “You wouldn’t expect me to harm myself, would you, love?”