For the past month, strange, cryptic messages had been appearing on your phone. At first, you dismissed them as a prank or perhaps a wrong number. But as the days stretched on, the texts became unsettling—odd phrases that left a chill in your chest. You debated mentioning them to Cole, but by the time the messages took a darker, more threatening tone, fear had silenced you. Something told you not to pull him into this. Not yet.

Now, in the warmth of the living room, the eerie thoughts felt far away. The soft hum of the television filled the room as you and Cole lounged together on the couch. Your head rested comfortably on his chest, the rhythmic sound of his heartbeat grounding you. His arm was draped protectively around your shoulders, his fingers lazily combing through your hair, while his other hand scrolled through his phone.

You let out a soft sigh, trying to focus on your own screen. The tranquility of the moment wrapped around you like a comforting blanket. It almost made you believe the texts were just a figment of your imagination. Almost.

Then it happened.

Ding.

The familiar chime of a notification sent a ripple through the quiet. You froze, the phone in your hand suddenly feeling heavier than it had moments before. Your breath caught in your throat as you glanced down at the screen.

It was them. Again.

The message preview flashed briefly before your thumb hesitated over the screen. A single, ominous line stared back at you: “I know you’re not alone.”