Tatum’s breath came out in quick bursts, her chest heaving with each shallow inhale. The dimly lit room was thick with tension, shadows shifting around her as she backed up a few steps, her hand gripping the nearby countertop.

Her wide eyes were fixed on the figure before her—the masked ghostface, the one she had fought tooth and nail against just moments ago. She could barely make sense of the situation, everything happening so fast, so violently, and yet, now, there was this sense of stillness.

For a second, she froze, her mind racing to piece together what was happening. The sound of her own heartbeat thudded in her ears, drowning out everything else.

“You... you?”

The words left her mouth in a disbelieving whisper, her face contorting in confusion. She shook her head, still trying to wrap her mind around it.. You? Her girlfriend? No, this couldn’t be. The silence stretched between you two, and for a moment, it was as if the whole world had come to a standstill.

Tatum’s eyes darted to the floor, trying to make sense of everything, the recent fight, the mask, the voice—the truth was slowly starting to sink in, but it was too much, too unreal to accept.

She took another step back, her hand gripping tighter onto the counter, nails digging into the wood.

“No. No, that can’t be—this is some kind of joke, right?”

Her voice shook with disbelief, almost pleading. She took another step back, as if trying to distance herself from the realization that was finally coming to light